There are three things Marcella fears: a phone call from the unknown, an email replied too soon, and an undeclinable request.
A phone call from the unknown is simple. You don’t know who’s at the other end, and what news they bring. You don’t know their intentions, their offers, their demands. What if the call is from someone you prefer never to answer to for the rest of your life? What if the caller is asking you something on the spot? What if you are caught unprepared, left bewildered, and went overboard?
What if you have to make a split-second decision, only to regret it afterwards? What if those small talks make you unease, carrying with them a certain wrong-intended message to the opposite party? What if the call is a question you do not have the answer yet to?
An email replied too soon. A chat answered straightaway. Lousy am I in phone calls, and content am I in emails, I fear an email replied too soon. Too soon, and I need to answer again straightaway. It is only polite. Too soon, and I am left with no room to breathe, no room to think about the proper answer. Too soon, and I feel obliged to reply with the same amount of time you have replied mine.
And at times, some replies take longer to cultivate.
But let me reply too late, and you will wonder. Let me take my time, and you will grow unease. For it seems as if I do not weigh your email as important as mine to you, which somehow shows that you are of no importance to me.
Perhaps. Perhaps not.
An undeclinable request. Ah, no one loves a request that is undeclinable. A request should give a person ease; it should provide a choice, a chance, an option. A request is an asking for help, not a forceful will to do whatever is asked. Put someone at a situation where she can’t decline, and you will have a snarling cat. An obedient cat, but still, snarling.
Photo by John Trainor, Creative Commons
