The younger generations have made it abundantly clear that to call people is an aggressive, insensitive power-move made by middle aged folk who don’t appreciate the delicate balance of introversion. To pick up the phone and nonchalantly press the call symbol is an act of laissez-faire disregard for the busy, important life of the recipient, not to mention a lack of respect for their privacy. Nobody calls anyone anymore. (Except Boomers…yes I’m looking at you with the landlines). These days, it’s text or die.

I’ve always sort of enjoyed calling my younger Millennial and Gen Y friends knowing full well they absolutely won’t answer the call. This allows me to leave a message that is overly long and seemingly purposeless. Sometimes I will just comment about how uncomfortable my call has made them and how their need to screen my call is a weakness of character.

The irony, of course, is that I actually hate talking on the phone. I’m a ‘state your business and get off’ kind of gal. If my victim happens to answer, we will be skipping the usual greetings and getting right down to business.”We haven’t had a drink in a while. You should come over tomorrow. 5pm. Bring chips. Ok? Bye.”

But lately…

I have levelled up my aggressive communication mode by FaceTiming people without notice. Skip the voice message, I’m talking full frontal facial, right up in your camera, super close.

And what is excellent, is that even the most introverted, 30-year-old hermit feels kind of mean rejecting the call of the crazy lady with cancer. I don’t care if you are working or at the checkout at Coles. I’m not taking into account your nocturnal sleep habits or your preference for a pre-arranged call time. Right now, I am all about RIGHT NOW.

So if you refuse my call, that’s cool, but you will never know what I was FaceTiming you about. It might have been an opportunity for me to let you know that you are a really important part of my life and that we shouldn’t waste any time talking about stuff that doesn’t matter anymore. Maybe you’ll be missing out on some bolt of wisdom I feel is critical to both of our lives and I must share it with you before I forget.

But most likely, if you are a friend or family member, I am calling you because I’ve had a really satisfying poo today which is now a precious and rare thing, which needs to be shared immediately. Or that I have finally put makeup on and somebody needs to tell me I look good (not optional, I’ll just unsubtly remind you that you should probably say that I look good). My oldest friend in the world recently described my washed-out, drawn appearance as “Not good, like it’s not great, but it is salvageable.” I loved this description.

Perhaps I am FaceTiming to let you know that those biscuits you baked were excellent and I would like another batch, please. But most likely, it’ll be about my bodily dysfunctions. Overshare is my middle name.

So here’s how I justify this kind of digital terrorism so willfully inflicted upon others:

Besides writing, I really only have one hobby. My people. Belonging to and connecting with people who are important to me, is what gives me life energy. And now I find that time is quite suddenly, of the essence. Never before have I felt such urgency to let you know that you mean something important to me. And my poo anecdote, is evidence of that.

Despite the exhaustion it seems to cause, I want to be with everyone right now. Even though I sometimes can’t, I still want to be right in the thick of it. And if I can’t physically come to you, and you can’t physically come to me, I might just FaceTime you whenever it suits and even when it doesn’t.

PS: Please don’t start Facetiming me. I thought of it first. No returns.

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