Wednesday night was the blogger meetup – quieter than usual, in more ways than one. But at least in a quiet venue I could (mostly) hear what others were saying. A few drinks and a small but friendly crowd, which came to a slightly abrupt end when the bar closed.
Normally I switch off my mobile phone at night, to avoid being woken up by errant callers. I suppose I could switch it to silent, but I might as well save battery power. So last night I switched it off as I went to bed.
This morning I woke up and while munching on some breakfast and reading the morning’s e-mail, turned the phone back on. It beeped to tell me I had a voicemail. I rang the voicemail number and the nice Ms Recorded Voice Lady told me there had been a call at 12:38am, and proceeded to play me the message. The message wasn’t so much a message as such, but more of the recording of two people chatting away, oblivious to the fact that their phone has called mine.
It went on for at least a few minutes – I haven’t had time to listen to all of it yet, and may not get around to it, as the first little bit wasn’t exactly riveting. The voices sound suspiciously like those of my sister and her husband, so hopefully it didn’t record half an hour’s worth of them chatting away in their kitchen in London, ‘cos that could add up to a sizeable phone bill.
Was it them? Could I be sure? You know what I was thinking, don’t you. Of course you do. I was thinking: "How can I blog this?"
I grabbed the computer microphone, stuck it next to the phone and played the voicemail back into it. Converted it to MP3 to post here, so you could all hear it and try and work out who it was.
My plan was foiled when I asked my sister if she’d accidentally called me, and she said "Must have, you’re in my calls list!" So the culprit has been found.
The housewarming party is on Saturday, so I expect I’ll be spending much of the next 48 hours tidying like a maniac. You’ll be pleased to know thatI’ve stopped panicking. Actually I never really did panic very much – it was just a bit of flowery writing.
