The Donkey Express

A mental to-do for the past week has been to clean out my email inbox. Don't be confused, it's not like I have a ton of them in there. Some people get hundreds or even thousands. I get the occasional fan mail, a few personal correspondences, lots of fantasy or blog related stuff, random "you have to see this forwards," and a boatload of notifications from Google Groups, dating sites, newsletters, and digests. I was also lying about the fan mail. I haven't received one of those in awhile.

One friend wrote me a beautiful email asking for my opinion about her opinion on marriage (that she sent to someone else). It was the type of out of the blue email I love to get. And it made me feel all gushy inside to receive it. But then I took six days to respond, even though when you shoot out a "wish you were here" email you expect a response in a timely manner. I totally know that. So six days is ridiculous. And then there were a few thank you emails I had piled up. Just simple plain "thank you's" for things people have done or opportunities they granted me. Those sat around too.

Then there are the worst transgressions of all. An email that has been sitting in my inbox since December and two from February. Let me remind you it's mid-August right now. They haven't been archived or hidden, they've been right there but I've just never responded. And they are quality emails too. Which people put some thought into. Like we were dialoguing. They literally sat in my inbox because they deserved the proper time committment for a quality reply but then I seemed to have never found the time. Or the mood? Or something. But that's just rude, by anyone's standards, and I've never been that person before. In my prior life I was an excellent email responder.

Now they pile up and I experience a feeling I rarely get: guilt. It's like we were having a conversation, I say "hold that thought" and excuse myself to go to the bathroom, and then return six to eight months later. Well tonight I knocked them all out -- save the one from December -- and felt like I accomplished something. With profuse apologies and the gift of hopefully well received MP3s, I cleared the deck of digital guilt and can now move on. I'm back to on-time email responses. Because I don't want to be that guy. That guy with six emails lagging in the queue. That's pathetic and I want no part of it.