You’ve Got Mail
I remember the first time my computer chimed
those three little words.
It was intoxicating,
a new electronic drug.
I would race to the office,
excited to dive in, read, respond.
This amazing telecommunications development
drastically cut down on telephone tie-up,
eliminated the need for counterproductive
five-hour meetings.
Unfortunately, I was not
the only addict. Soon
bosses and co-workers felt
the need to spam me their every half-formed thought,
and what used to be a friendly intonation
became a monotonous echo of exasperation. The next
generation replaced vocabulary with notification tones,
gave us a choice of sounds to tell us our inbox was drowning
as progress became synonymous with paperless. Attachments
poured in, piled up, mixed with spam that slipped
through filters, turned into nightmarish migraine. I thought
it couldn’t get any worse, then the powers that be created
the phone app. Now I
hear that infuriating beep
on and off the clock.
Hell, I even hear it in my sleep.
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