The Industrial Age gave way to the Information Age which gave way to the Information Overload Age!
Email-Tastrophe
It’s 5:30AM. The room is dark. Somewhere in the distance, on my nightstand, a cell phone buzzes to life illuminating the room in soft, blue light.
Bzzzt…bzzzzt….bzzzzt
Maybe if I ignore it it’ll go away.
BZZZT!!! BZZZT!!!
Fuck.
“Hu…hello…?”
“Ken! Ken! It’s Todd! Ken, have you read my email?”
<Ding> <Ding> <Ding>
“Todd?”
“Yes, Ken?”
“Did you just send me three more emails?”
<Ding>
“Four, but you can respond to those later”
“Ok, let me [muffled] scroll…”
<Ding> <Dading Dingy ding>
“Oh for ffffff…sake. Could you just tell me what you need?”
<Ding> <Dillyding> <Dingy dingy dingdong>
“Ken?”
“…Hu…hold on”
<shuffle><shuffle> <THUMP>
“OWE! [muffled] Ffff…[muffle]”
“Ok, ok, hold on”
<Ding>
“Ok, sounds like your email just came in.”
<Ding> <Ding>
<Ding> <Ding> <Ding>
“[Muffled] What the ffff…[muffle]”
“What was that? Ken? Did you find it?” Todd is too impatient. If he doesn’t relax he’s going to give himself a heart attack at an early age.
“Which one Todd? I’ve gotten 31” <Ding> “32 emails from you since 5:00AM.” He also needs a hobby.
“It’s the one about the budget. I sent it at 5:00AM.”
“Of course you did,” I mumble.
“What was that?” Impatient. He is so impatient.
“Hold on, hold on, let me find it.”
<Scroll> <Scroll>
“5:00AM?”
“Yes. Eastern.”
“Eastern? Oh. Ok. Ok, let me scroll. [more muffling of things that shouldn’t be repeated]”
<Scroll> <Scroll> <Scroll>
<Ding> <Ding> <Ding>
“Todd?”
“Yes, Ken?”
“Did you just send me three more emails?”
<Ding>
“Four, but you can respond to those later”
“Ok, let me [muffled] scroll…”
<Ding> <Dading dingy ding>
“Oh for ffffff…sake. Could you just tell me what you need?”
<Ding> <Dilly ding> <Dingy dingy ding dong>
“It’s really better if you read my email. Please check it out and jump on my Zoom call, I’m headed there now.”
<Click> <bzzzzzzzzzzz>
I scroll several more minutes to find the offending email while I dial into Todd’s Zoom call.
At this point in the story Judge Merril T. Bones leans forward propping his weight on his gavel and looks down at me from the pulpit. “Oohhhh! And then what happened?” he asks, peering at me over the top his spectacles with great interest.
“Well,Your Majesty, I had just dialed into Todd’s Zoom call…”
<Fade back to the Zoom call like a cheesy 70s Soap Opera returning from a dream sequence>
“Ok, Todd, I think I found it,” I read the subject line to Todd, “Subject: Re: Fw: Fw: FW: Re: Re: Fw: Re: Re: Re: Overbudget! OMG! We must cut costs now or we are doomed!”
“Thanks for joining the call, Ken.” Todd starts, “Yes, yes, that’s the one. Have you read through it?”
“Well, how much are we over budget?” This should be easy enough to sort out, I think to myself.
There is a long silence then Todd breaks in, “Ken…did you read the email?”
Fuck. This isn’t going to be easy to sort out.
I scroll down to the body of the email
“Ok, ok, so you need to know when the flamibidty glabbits will be delivered? Todd, I don’t handle famibidty orders, that’s Bradley.” Why am I here?
“No no no, Ken, scroll down.” Todd instructs.
“How many clamadgits do we have on hand?”
“No, further down.”
“What is the Luxembourgian exchange rate? Wait, aren’t they on the Euro?”
“No, down.”
“What’s the flux capacity of the thermobobbers?”
“Nope.”
“What time is the game on Sunday?”
“No. Wait, do you know? Wait, no, nevermind that.”
“Which site is being demo’d in December?”
“Nope.”
Judge Bones leans in closer.
“What time is the Flendersheim meeting?”
“Yes!” Todd exclaims, “Yes, that’s it!”
After a moment of silence I ask, “Todd, you sent me an email to ask when the Flendersheim meeting is?”
“Yes.”
“And called me at 5:30AM?”
“Yes.”
“And scheduled a Zoom meeting?”
“Of course.”
“It’s Thursday at 1:15PM. The meeting,” I reply calmly through gritted teeth, “is Thursday. At 1:15.”
The room…uhhh, the Zoom goes silent.
“Eastern time,” I add.
Silence.
“Uh, Ken?” Todd breaks the silence after several tense moments.
“Yes, Todd?” I respond, gritting harder”
“Can you reply to the email.”
<Fade back to the courtroom…>
“So you see, Your Highness, I was clearly justified and all this ‘anger management classes’ nonsense is completely unnecessary”
Author: Ken Gack
Ken Gack slowly drowns in the unrelenting rising tide of information filling his inbox. There is no escape.
He swims through the overwhelming onslaught for all his might but trivial messages slowly rise over his chest, his mouth, his nose…
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