Managing the Mayhem

Surviving the Inbox

Every month I like to take a moment to share one of those little behind-the-scenes realities that make people tilt their head, blink twice, and wonder if I actually said the thing I just said.

Spoiler: I did. I always do.

This month’s moment of truth arrived courtesy of my inbox, specifically, the inbox I abandoned for five days while I ran off to the Tennessee Williams Literary Festival in New Orleans. A glorious trip, absolutely worth it… but my inbox did not share that opinion.

I returned home, unpacked, blinked twice, and suddenly Easter was barreling toward me like a pastel-colored freight train. Which meant I had approximately 72 hours to catch up on:

• author updates

• event follow-ups

• scheduling changes

• FYIs that were definitely not FYIs

• and at least one email that simply said “???” with no context

By this morning, my inbox looked like it had been left unsupervised at a toddler birthday party. Confetti everywhere. Cupcakes on the ceiling. A suspicious stickiness I chose not to investigate.

I sat down with a plan, a real plan, to sort everything neatly into categories:

• Urgent

• Important

• Needs a reply

• Can wait

• What even IS this???

Five minutes later, I had abandoned the system entirely and was triaging messages like a battlefield medic.

At one point, someone asked me how my morning was going.

Without hesitation, I said, “I’m fine. I’ve decided to accept that my inbox is now a natural disaster.”

They blinked.

I blinked.

My inbox sent me three more emails just to be spiteful.

But here’s the thing: it was fine.

Some days “fine” means I’m caught up.

Some days “fine” means I’m only answering the emails that hiss at me.

Some days “fine” means I’ve accepted that the inbox will win today, and I’ll win tomorrow.

And honestly? I’ll take it.

So if you hear me muttering to myself this month, don’t worry, I’m not unraveling. I’m just negotiating a cease-fire with my inbox. Loudly. With color-coded folders that definitely used to mean something.

And if you ever catch me saying something that makes you pause and blink…

welcome to the club.

Membership is involuntary, but the entertainment value is high.