There’s a phrase people use about art imitating life. It’s time to re-write that phrase to work imitating home.
This time of year, I don’t go to my office all that much but I try to stop in periodically to clear out my mailbox, have a meeting, make sure I haven’t been robbed, etc. It’s rare for me to check voicemail, though. Not because I don’t care but because it’s rare for me to have voicemail waiting. Imagine my surprise when the message light was blinking and my voicemail warned me it was full. Full? How can that be?
Well, let me tell ya, I have a few messages saved. Seven, I think. And the rest were automated messages. A U T O M A T E D. Hooray. Rather than listen to them, I just individually deleted them all.
Flash forward to a few weeks later when I’m back at my office and the same thing happens. Alert! Alert! Your voicemail is full… again. This time, I listened to the full message. A collection agency is after me! OK, that’s an exaggeration. A collection agency is after the person who listed my work number as her own number! Can you believe that mess? Yeah, so I had multiple messages claiming to be private messages for this person. I was instructed that if I was not said person I should call blah blah blah at the 888 number. So I called the number and never spoke to a real person. This should end well.
I checked my voicemail from home today. Guess what? They are still calling me! Grrrrr. I called them again immediately afterward and never spoke to a real person. This is getting really old.
Am I being punk’d?