“How does that not just stress you out!?”
“I have no idea what you are talking about.”
It seems like Kell and I have this conversation three times a week about some random topic. For as much as we have become like each other, there are moments when I realize we are still very much our own people.
“You have 6 unread text messages!”
“How does that not just stress you out!”
“I leave them unread so that I remember to respond to them.”
Those who have been unfortunate enough to endure a texting conversation with me know that I kind of suck at it. My “system” doesn’t seem to help me much. This is in contrast to my wife; she is a straight-up texting wizard. She can fire a fully punctuated text off before the ringer is halfway through its full volumed aggravating ding sound. So naturally seeing this -
Causes some serious consternation.
After a 10 minute desperate exhortation to at least read my texts (shortening my response time is going to take nothing short of shock therapy), so she doesn’t develop a burbling peptic ulcer, I promised I would try for her.
A few hours later I picked up her phone to find a picture she had taken that day. That is when I found this:
Yeah. That says 30,000 unread emails. 30,000.
It is a good thing I love her, because I sure don’t understand her.