The Joy of Text

Just before Christmas I lost my mobile phone, a random act of perimenopausaul madness? Probably. Of course with mobile -dependency at an all time high over the festive period, I was in a bit of a pickle because, obviously, I hadn't backed up those all important numbers one mindlessly sticks in the phone. However, having got over the initial shock and horror it was a strangely liberating experience, no paranoid rummaging through the handbag halfway through the movie wondering did I/didn't I turn it off (I once got a text, mercifully undetected, four rows from the front while Dames Judi and Maggie were giving it their all. The thought still brings me out in a cold sweat). No frantic checking, annoying interruptions, confusing texts or missed calls that randomly change plans but never actually reach you in time. My home phone began to ring again with the voices of family and friends as they learnt of my plight, instead of unknown well-wishers enquiring after my need for a new credit card. This is the way forward, I thought, I'm going to massively reduce my gratuitous use of the mobile phone. A resolution that went right out the window within the first 24 hours of firing up the replacement...........

But, with so many ways to keep in touch why, then, is it so hard to communicate? Is it just my age, or do things seem to be more complicated now we have phones, mobile phones, answer phones and computers? I tried to make an arrangement with a couple of friends last week. A series of communal emails were deployed followed up with changes by texts and then finally the whole thing was cancelled by email, and back up phone calls, because I don't sit in front of my laptop all weekend or own a pocket sized email receiver. Whatever happened to one conversation to decide time and place and to which the only reason you didn't show was you were either hospitalised or dead? Messages criss-crossed out of sequence and all in all it was confusing and exhausting.

As if that wasn't enough, now my mother has embraced silver-surfing. When she's not 'waiting in' for an email (I've tried explaining the fact that it's not a telegram and it's beauty is that you can go out and yet still receive) then she's writing missives followed by phone calls to ask if I've seen said email yet, and then she tells me what's in it. I've had to put a block on her sending me anymore links to random things or pictures of the dog or snow or the dog in the snow. It really is more information than I require.

And then there's the joy of texting and all it's hidden dangers. A friend of mine who otherwise appears to be sailing through her menopause with the greatest of ease, keeps accidentally sending texts to my home phone by mistake. So it is that I discover day-old messages from a nameless, electronic voice telling me it's: 'running late, make it at 8' or 'will meet you there instead'..... After a lovely evening with an old friend who'd recently moved, I sent him a text confirming my enjoyment, saying 'your home looks lovely well done'. However, I didn't check the predictive spelling and sent 'your good looks lovely well done' which he thought meant I was congratulating him on still being good looking and led to a rather confusing response, although it also earned me several compliments too. Then I received a random message from a woman I'd recently met, saying 'Big kiss'. Dazed and confused, and with imagination working overtime, I wondered long and hard what it might mean. Of course what it actually meant was her nephew had not received his birthday text.....

To tip: Let Nurse Jackie, BBC 2, Monday 10pm, get you through January.