In the past two days I have made more phone calls than I typically make in three months. I've been sorting out buying a car, and trying to get it independently inspected before I do so; for various reasons involving last-minute schedule changes and people not having vital bits of information so that I have to call someone else to get them and call back to pass them on, this has involved an absolutely frantic couple of days of telephoning all sorts of people repeatedly. I expect everyone involved is sick of the sound of my voice by now – I certainly am – and since this is an open-plan office I also expect my colleagues have concluded that I haven't done anything this week but call up car-related people on the phone and get cross with them.

It wouldn't have been so bad if every call I needed to make had gone right the first time. Instead, nearly every attempted call I've made today or yesterday has involved being unable to get through to the person I want, calling back later and/or being promised a callback, and usually taking about three or four calls to get anywhere. This has tended to make me feel as if every time I pick the phone up I'm engaging in a battle of wills rather than (as I should be) simply requesting or providing information, and it's now got to the point where I feel a strong sense of something I can only describe as ‘telephone fatigue’ every time I realise I'm going to have to pick the thing up again.

Bonus points on the battle-of-wills score go to the RAC vehicle inspections line, which when all the lines are busy does not place your call in a queue but instead automatically puts it through to a support division who can't actually do anything to help you except promise a callback that may or may not materialise. Another bonus point goes to the person I tried to phone twice, was promised a callback by a receptionist both times, he finally did call back just when I'd left my desk alone for two minutes and I got back to the phone just as it went to voicemail, and then I immediately called him back and he promptly put me on hold.

If I never so much as look at another telephone for the rest of my life, it'll be half an hour too soon. I'd quite like to put a tea cosy over mine for the rest of the week, so it doesn't loom in the corner of my vision and annoy me merely by existing.