Nobody is going to die because of this email.
A thought experiment to help you C.T.F.D.*
I’ve been thinking about the physiology of email. Specifically, why I open my inbox at 7am with the vague alertness of someone who’s just heard a strange noise downstairs. Post-vacation email checking is the worst kind of email checking.
As the kids would say, email is kind of a “jump scare.”
Here’s what I think may be happening: Our nervous systems are wired for a specific kind of threat: unpredictable ones. It’s not consistent danger that gets to us — it’s the variability. The not knowing. Every time you open your inbox, your brain genuinely cannot predict what’s inside. A compliment? A complaint? A passive-aggressive “per my last email”? A calendar invite? A resignation? All equally possible. And our dear sweet bodies, God bless ‘em, prepare accordingly.
This is why email is so exhausting even when nothing that bad actually happens. We’re in a state of bracing — a hundred times a day.
And here’s the worst part: when our nervous systems are in low-grade brace mode, we’re not at our best. We skim instead of read. We react instead of respond. We fire off a curt reply that we’d never deliver in person, because in our animal-like estimation, there’s no time — something might be coming.
There is no tiger. But your nervous system doesn’t know that.
So. One technique. Embarrassingly simple.
