The first new email is special, its arrival marked by a flash of pixels promising something interesting or fun.
The next email is a smidgen less special. One email to read is unique. Two are … less so. And so on.
Some days, the inbox seethes. When I return to the computer after only minutes away, there are – what! – two dozen unread emails.
And thus none are special. Or they’re special like people who throw fast-food bags out of cars are special. They stand out for being bad.
As I write, my inbox holds 185 emails, including 12 I haven’t read. A couple of days ago, emails piled in so fast the unreads topped 25. Before I’d even read ’em, they crushed my spirit.
OK, “crushed my spirit” is melodramatic. But not wrong. Am I wrong to want them to just stop, to quit demanding my attention? Like, now!
Of course, the unread emails bug me only because I let them. That’s my nature. And my nature, like concrete, is set.
So, the inbox seethes. As do I. Diggity dadgummit.
More about irritating irritations
Irritations in the quest for unobtanium
I would reply to this essay but I don’t want to fill up your email in-box. :-0 Carrie K. P.S. And hearing from me is ALWAYS SPECIAL, Jeff!!! 😉
Carrie, I agree!
Isn’t batch delete a wonderful tool?!
Yes!