Bad at email

Good friends and family know this, but I am bad at email. Like chronically bad. If you have tried to email me, you know this too and you either never got a reply or received one 9-months later starting with the phrase, “Sorry.” I am truly sorry… but also I’m not. It’s a function of who I am. I was never great at email, but in a slower time before social media it raptured my attention. I would habitually refresh my inbox hoping for a long range communication from a friend or stranger. When I was homesick in Japan, a good email (or AIM chat) could turn my day around. I have fond memories of email and its unparalleled ability to connect me to other people through a single address. It of course would never be as familiar or intimate as scribing a hand-written calligraphic letter with a big feather pen, but it proved a fine substitute. At Paravel, I noticed that emails had a propensity to crash into my day with some new urgent task. A ding, a red badge, a bouncing icon in the dock. Could…