Starbucks Is The Giver Of Life, And All That Is Good In This Cruel, Cruel World

So. I am a huge fan of text messaging. Huge. If there is a ever a petition demanding that all communication not done face-to-face must transpire solely through text messaging/E-Mail, I will sign it several times. And I’m not including IMs which, while they can be useful, also make me profoundly nervous, since you cannot determine exactly who sees you online, unless you are willing to block a large portion of your friends, or make many different screen names. But there is a catch to all this glorious technology. It has unquestionably increased the stress in my life to a critical level. Not overall, of course – merely when said technology is being employed. Using text messaging can, in fact, make you a nervous wreck and a total asshole.I am one of those people who answer a text as soon as it is received. I even respond to text messages that need no response: “C U in 5.” “OK, see you then.” (I am also one of those lunatics who insists on proper spelling in my texts). I do this solely to ensure that the other person knows I have received said text, and that I am in a similar mindframe.Most people do not do this. Most people are not as paranoid as I am, either. If there is a delay of any sort, beyond a few minutes, I become nervous. I begin to worry something horrible has happened to the other person or, worse, that they are mad at me. And that is when I start to act like a rejected girlfriend or celebrity stalker.I begin to obsessively check my texts, wondering if something has gone wrong with my phone in particular, or who the whole text messaging system in general. I wonder if the undead have risen, and chewed on the wires that make text messaging possible. I worry that all my friends have gotten together and decided I am a bitch, despite the facts that A) most of my friends dislike each other, and B) they are all well aware of my bitchiness. Finally, I start text messaging them completely random things, desperate for a response. “My roommate is annoying.” “Do you want to get food tonight?” “WHY HAST THOU FORSAKEN ME?”Most of the time, this behavior is viewed with weary tolerance by my friends. They emerge from the subway/shower/nap/orgy that has kept them from receiving my texts, only to discover a plethora of messages that would hold up exceptionally well in court as signs of my insanity.I can have whole fights with people over text messaging – without a single response on their side.“Cool, I’ll see you then.”“Ha ha, they’re playing that song you like that sucks.”“Are you coming over next week?”“You there?”“Dude, are you pissed?”“Answer me!”“You know what? If you don’t want to talk to me, just say so!”“Fuck you and everything you hold dear!”Needless to say, this can be slightly disconcerting for a friend who happens to temporarily be without a signal.I know this is irrational, unhealthy behavior. I accept that. But I’m not going to change. I am an advocate for speedy text messaging responses. I demand timeliness in my communications. And yes, while simply CALLING people would solve many of the above issues, I refuse to do so. I hate talking on the phone. It strikes me as invasive. Which is a story for another post.Why am I blathering about this? Two reasons. One: to inspire others to respond quickly to texts, and hopefully cause others to experience the same paranoia I do. Then we can start a support group. Two: I text messaged two of my friends last night, before bed. They haven’t responded. And I’m running out of texts.NOTE: I did not write the promised Sex post because I want people to respond to my damn entries. I’m holding Sex hostage! Also, I left my notes at home, and am typing this up at work.SECOND NOTE: I saw The Simpsons Movie this weekend, and it proved that my earlier assertions of brilliance are all too true. Also, it was funny as hell and I actually cried at one point, but let’s focus solely on my genius. FOCUS.UP NEXT: Either the much-heralded Sex post, or I’ll whine incessantly about job interviews. Your pick: howling orgasms or, “So where do you see yourself in ten years?”

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