Independence Day from the Inbox

Does the sheer influx to your email inbox make you want to delete your account and assume a new identity? Maybe that of a 102-year-old lady from Bellville, Texas who hasn't a clue about email? (It's possible I was watching Willard Scott's birthday wishes as I wrote this post.)

I get anywhere from 50 to 150 emails a day. Sometimes it's people hitting the "reply all" button much like children given $100 and a parent-free trip to a candy store -- that is, with wild and manic abandon. (Reply all people slay me. It's very likely that if one day I finally snap, it will be at someone who has written "I'll bring the Capri Suns" and sent it to 160 people. I apologize in advance to the bringer of the Capri Suns.)

But another email issue is one I brought down upon myself like the electronic plague. People will send me links and say "you will love this flash sale/writing/coffee/wine/purse-of-the-month website/newsletter/blog" and then I'd sign up and, 95 percent of the time, delete the emails before I even read them.

This seemed like an appropriate week to declare independence. Independence from a bunch of email that didn't enhance my life even one tiny bit, but did suck up a bunch of time better spent elsewhere. Not to mention the stress of staring down a kazillion emails in your to-do box, and the general sensation I could be missing something important (like a client request or writing assignment or notification I won a generous settlement from a lawsuit in which I wasn't even involved) among the emails from Gilt Group and Daily Candy.

So, I zipped through my list and kept only the subscriptions that I actually use -- a couple of sites that send me coupons for overpriced clothes for my fashion-conscious pre-teens, a few blogs that either make me laugh, give great advice, or tell me something I didn't already know. (Hopefully this blog falls into that category for you, otherwise I've just written the most terrifically self-defeating blog post ever.)

After several days of my new-found independence, I'm proud to be an American ... where at least I know I'm free ... Wait. Sorry. What I meant to say is I no longer try to drown my iPhone because I notice I have 47 new emails.

Join me in the land of unsubscribe, won't you? (Except from this blog. Do not unsubscribe from this blog, please. In fact, encourage all your friends to subscribe by emailing them this link. Then we can all join forces to find the "reply all" people and make them pay. Probably by singing patriotic songs to them.)