Great piece in New Yorker!
Sorry for the delayed response. I opened your e-mail on my phone while my date was in the bathroom, but then I saw that it required more than a “yes” or “no” reply, decided that was too much work, marked it as unread, and then forgot about it entirely until just now!
Sorry for the delay! I put off answering your e-mail until I had an even more tedious task that I wanted to avoid. Thanks!
You e-mailed asking for my opinion, and I wanted to give a really thorough, well-thought-out, articulate response, so I starred your e-mail, and over time it became a mascot for my illogical but oppressive sense of dread in the face of slightly annoying tasks. That little yellow star became a shining testament to the burden of modernity! Every day, it dared me to write a response worthy of the time I’ve made you wait, and every day I thought, Ugh, no. But today! Today I will respond! Rejoice, my patient friend! (I’m actually really busy, though, so this is going to be a vague, half-assed response that I could have easily written in the minute after I first read your e-mail, five months ago.) Sorry!
We probably all do this*, so it shouldn’t be such a pain, but again and again it feels like it is. For instance, I haven’t started this blog yet, because I really want the first one to be a good one, and it grows bigger and bigger the more I wait, so nothing feels good enough.
I aim at two things with this post: first, to half-ass the start of this blog so it does not seem so insurmountable anymore, and to tell everyone, this is how it is sometimes. Can we just skip the explanations and carry on?
*) Or maybe those weird people who seem to be far too productive don’t? How, tell me!?