I’m a big fan of minimalism. I get a kick out of getting rid of shit, particularly when it’s being recycled or donated to someone who can appreciate it more than I do. It fulfills my human necessity to do good and partially convinces me that I’m not the horribly materialistic bitch that I probably am.
But then there’s email. It’s not a tangible object, so it’s ok to hoard it, right? I’ll need that Amazon receipt for probiotic pearls just in case I still vomit in the middle of class and want to sue the company that made them. Rationality is clearly a strength of mine.
So what happens when you let them pile up month after month? What happens when you’re not one of those lucky people who doesn’t get emotional about deleting that birthday message the university sent you, which wasn’t even on your birthday? The emails pile up, like rotten food on that particularly scarring episode of Hoarders. And then you panic while trying to find something actually pertinent to your academic life, and move past the denial stage into admitting that you have a problem.
Deleting emails; it’s something I suck at.