The dishes are done, man

I was going to make a post earlier, but decided instead to compulsively check my email. The funny part is that I don't even like getting new messages. Reading new email is like making a big dinner; it's sort of entertaining and a good way to kill some time, but afterwards you have a mess to clean up. That part is like replying to emails. And I hate doing the dishes.

I have some emails that I've been intending to reply to that are still within the acceptable range of response time; emails that you see the date stamped on and then open up and smell to see if they're still good. But I have other emails that are way past that point. Emails that say things like "let's do something on spring break;" emails that are the salad dressing you can't remember ever buying that you find hidden in the dark corners of your inbox-refrigerator

But not replying does serve my ulterior motive (assuming laziness as my primary motivating factor): if you don't reply they stop writing. Now if only I could get people to stop calling me.

You know, I used to think that maybe I just wasn't cut out for modern life and all its technological wonders, but now I think that maybe I'm just not cut out for life.