Unsubscratisfaction

Nothing satisfies more than a tidy email inbox. Unfortunately, I’ve seldom felt that satisfaction.

As I write, my gmail account’s inbox holds 116 emails – a number low enough to merit celebration. My work account’s inbox shows 3,476 emails. Yes, you may hoot. I am chastened and ashamed.

But rest easy. I’ve begun to fight back. My new tactic: Unsubscribe.

Many emails come uninvited from businesses and publishers. Their notes, somehow both earnest and chirpy, press me to buy a product or service, to read an article, to complete a survey, to donate cash.

Take the dealership that services my car. After each visit, a marketing firm hired by the dealer or manufacturer duns me with emails – to get more service, to schedule a test drive, to buy a car. Sometimes two emails a day!

Unsubscribe.

Airlines too.

Unsubscribe.

Social media companies.

Unsubscribe.

The firm that made my fitness tracker.

Unsubscribe.

Someone sketchy selling investment advice.

Un. Sub. Scribe.

Does it help?

Yeah, right. Does squishing a cockroach solve a bug problem?

Still, I feel fulfilled. I have experienced …