flock

All my little birds are busy at school and work this week.



Middle is being a patient Senior/older brother with Youngest who is full of questions about high school.



And Youngest is being a respectful Freshman - he has expressed an interest in joining the film club but will hold back if Middle would prefer it to be his arena (I can't imagine Middle complaining about Youngest's presence there, but it is kind of Youngest to be aware of this possibility.)



And they have the same lunch period on "A" days but Youngest has been kind enough to not acknowledge Middle's existence in the cafeteria.



Just when I was craving some alone-time in my house I got it.



Strangely, I am a little out of sorts and haven't properly managed my time.



I've been distracted.

Here's a story:

Last night, after 8pm, the phone rang. I didn't recognize the number, but it was the house line and not K's business line so I answered it. As soon as I heard a pause on the line after I said hello I knew it was a telemarketer. I hate talking to telemarketers (who doesn't?) but, for some odd reason, I don't mind taking telephone surveys. This call was a survey. A survey about hospitals in and near Tuvalu. The gentleman on the other end of the phone sounded young and he had an accent. I patiently answered questions about local hospitals and my experiences or opinions of them. I was surprised that I was eligible to answer the questions (sometimes I am ineligible by virtue of being married to a person who works in "media") and once I decided to stick with it, I gave each answer some thought - I have experience with several metro area hospitals. The survey eventually revealed its real topic - whether or not I had seen or heard commercials for particular hospitals.
Anyway. These calls always take longer than one wishes and I was joking by the time we got to my personal information. I declined to answer some of the questions to protect my privacy but was good about most of them. The caller began his wrap up speech and launched into it explaining that his supervisor might call to verify that I had really spoken with him - that he had not made up my answers. I had to interrupt him to ask him some questions of my own. He broke phone survey character and told me that he works six hours shifts, that he had come on three hours earlier. I asked where he got my number and he said the computer dials them. I asked how many people hang up on him. I wondered if 50% of the people he calls are willing to answer the questions:
Oh, no ma'am. Oh! Fifty percent would be something! I've called two hundred and twenty five people so far this evening and you are the first person who hasn't hung up and answered my survey.
He let me ask him a few more things and I realized that he was sitting just a few miles from my brother's house, at a call center. I thought about him as a person - I hate talking to telemarketers and try to get off the phone with them as fast as possible, but I wouldn't have minded talking just a little longer with him. I imagined him working to make tuition (my brother lives in a university town) and was hoping I could tell his supervisor that he did his job well.
Gosh. Two hundred calls?
Yes ma'am.
And I'm the first one who answered?
Yes. And I sincerely thank you for that.

All told, I probably spent 15 minutes speaking with him. I can't count the number of times I haven't answered or hung up on people.