Well,
hopefully not to this!
I’m not one
to make New Year resolutions, and in hindsight the quest to rid my inbox of
unwanted email merely coincided with it being the start of a new year rather
than it being a declaration to begin 2015 differently. I know how it began, this quest to
keep my Inbox down to the precious few: being away from mail for a number of
days where all those vouchers I signed up for and all those contests to sun in
Montenegro or explore St Petersburg were stacking up among the important stuff.
And oh how easy it is just to click Delete and watch it disappear off the
screen, momentarily forgetting that there will be yet another fantastic sale or
two-for-one offer in the next month. Or next week. Delete, delete!
Ah but for a
few extra clicks I can Ctrl End to the bottom of the screen, scan for the
Unsubscribe link, click, verify address, and click again. Some sites want one more
verification, to be absolutely sure I don’t want to know about how to nurture
my inner beauty, where to enjoy a 2 for 1 pizza, or learn the five “must see”
health resources.
Are six
clicks better than one? You betcha. And since the beginning of the year I have
been (almost always dutifully) following the six-step programme to rid myself
of unwanted flab in my Inbox. What’s there now can’t yet be archived, probably requires
a response or some activity on my part, or acts as a gentle reminder of
upcoming events, etc.
My Google
mail Inbox, conveniently bucketed by my friends there into Primary, Social, and
Promotion, which contain 32, 2, and 3 items respectively. The promotional
emails are all from Prevention Today (and about exercises), and the two Social
items are from LinkedIn—people I want to respond to in the future. The Primary
mailbox is a mish-mash of things I need to get to, things I want to be reminded
of, and an odd assortment of recipes and links to products I might like to buy
someday when I’m finished papering the offices of the British government with
pounds collected for various and sundry visas, certificates, etc.
Speaking of
which, I have saved the appropriate fee and have made my appointment with a
nationality checking service (for a much smaller fee of £55) to have my
application for citizenship reviewed by someone at the local council, who will
verify all the original papers—including Tim’s and my passports—and allow me to
leave with them while the Home Office decides whether or not I am an upstanding
enough person to be given the privilege of citizenship. Time will tell . . .
they allow themselves up to six months to decide, though I suspect that I will
find myself voting in the May election. Exciting times!
And, with
my tidier inbox, well, I’ll see all the emails that come in about the progress
of my application! Oh, wait, they don’t actually do that; Royal Mail will have
to do. I think I will start anticipating the postman’s drop about mid-March,
and hope that by St Patrick’s Day I’ll be invited to the ceremony (for which
there is a small fee).
