by Madeleine Kando
One of the things I hated the most when I was a child was to be interrupted. Whether it was finishing a drawing, carefully removing a scab on my injured knee or watching a cartoon, being forcefully interrupted was very difficult for me.
My life consisted of present moments and not being able to complete the three natural steps of beginning, middle and end of a process caused havoc on my mental state. It made me angry and frustrated. I had not developed the art of delayed gratification yet.
Let’s face it, even now, I detest being interrupted. That is why I hold my breath every time my dear husband enters my work space. He is not only very good at interrupting but it is clear that he considers me as one of the many items around the house that are at his beck and call, like the coffee machine or the toaster. When he needs it, it’s there. When I answer with an irritated grunt to one of his interrupting questions, he is surprised. Coffee machines aren’t supposed to do that.
In the good old days I could hold off on my favorite activities until he had left for work. I thought: ‘Oh well, only two more hours and I can focus uninterruptedly on my bookkeeping, my writing, my planning the garden…’
Those were the good old days. Those were the pre-skype days. Now people have the ability to interrupt me long-distance any old time they please. Some of them are on to me and know that I am glued to my computer 24/7 like siamese twins. Coffee machines, computers.. it’s all the same to them. We are interruptable.
I don’t know if it’s a Mac thing, but the sound of an incoming skype call is worse than the ‘all hands on deck’ blare on a submarine. It jolts me out of my concentration and I feel like I have to scramble to attention and salute.
Although I do not like ‘before noon video’, my mom gets very upset if she cannot see me during a skype call. But she is in Holland and at 1 pm her time I am sitting at home, unwashed, uncombed, barely conscious.
I have tried to broach the subject of skype-etiquette. I have told her that I am not ready for my close-up at 6 am in the morning. I don’t want to have to stare at her for 20 minutes, as if nothing else exists in my morning hours. They are hard enough to get through until I reach a state of semi-humanity.
So now I am ready to instate some skype rules and email them to my family:
1) Do not skype me at 5 o’clock in the morning to ask me: ‘why are you awake?’
2) Text me before you push that darned green call button and give me an early morning heart attack.
3) Don’t skype me to tell me that you don’t have time to skype me.
4) Don’t walk away from a skype conversation to make yourself a cup of coffee.
5) Let’s not get into: ‘You hang up first. No, you. No, you. No, you’.
I shouldn’t complain. Skype has allowed me to communicate with my very dispersed family like nothing else has. But talking on the phone sure has advantages. Telephones are so much more forgiving. You can multi-task (like pick your nose and talk politics at the same). You can look bored and still sound extremely interested in your interlocutor’s banalities. You can scratch any taboo part of your body. And above all, you don’t have to be combed, washed or dressed. How many times have I not conducted a very important business conversation in my underwear? You try that with skype and you will end up in jail for indecent exposure. leave comment here