Chloe Moss, 22, is a fashion blogger and freelance writer who graduated with an English Literature degree from King’s College London in July. In her third ‘Funemployed’ column she examines a love-hate relationship with her email inbox…
I’m not a big believer in ‘signs’ from the universe, as it were. I’m not into fate and things being ‘meant to be’. Generally, I’m hideously cynical. But one thing I do believe in is the internet. And this week, I feel like the internet has been sending me signs that are making me reflect on my apparently tragic life.
As a freelance writer who, as of recently, lives alone, I spend a lot of time turning to the internet for solace. And no I’m not about to start talking about PornHub; this isn’t that kind of column. I’m talking about how I’ve become really reliant on my email inbox as a form of keeping sane because it links me to the outside world. I’m one of those people who actually really loves spam, and any email from a company about a discount really works on me. But more recently, as I said, my inbox has been forcing me to become somewhat introspective, contemplating recent life choices.
Firstly, I realised that no matter how many job applications I send out, there’s always one email sender consistently appearing in my inbox. A man who will never let you down, come rain or shine. That’s right, it’s Papa John, of Papa John’s pizza, friend to every drunk. My mate John emails me multiple times a week, keeping me informed about his latest deals and whatever. Anyway, the tipping point was when I actually clicked on one of the emails and, upon going to the Papa John’s website, I started to look, and I mean really look, at the photo of Papa John. He seems nice, he has a trustworthy stare, and, after a few minutes, I considered that there might be something resembling charisma in his stance. I caught myself almost thinking Papa John was attractive. I think the pizza he was holding confused me, but still. THIS was a sign that I needed to cancel that subscription and leave the house.
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The second reason comes from yet more spam, directed this time from Wahanda, the beauty website offering discounts on treatments and products and so forth. I’ve used them twice in the past, once for a haircut, which was great, and once for a wax which was not great. So Wahanda knows just about as much about me as a person can know, given that they can specify my preferred wax. But now it keeps suggesting waxes as though I’m this hairy beast, making me acutely aware of my grooming habits. And I seriously think that Wahanda and Groupon are in a conspiracy together, because Groupon keeps recommending wax/general beauty products too. Have the discount beauty product sites gathered together and collectively decided that I need professional help with my maintenance? Is that what is happening to me right now? If that’s not the act of a frenemy then I don’t know what is. And yes, I had to talk myself down and remind myself that these websites obviously send emails based on previous orders and searches, and that they are not, in fact, conspiring against me. This was again a sign that I needed to leave the house (and buy some shaving foam).
Then today, something great happened. I got an email notifying me that Craig David had favourited one of my tweets. I regularly tweet random celebrities bizarre 140-character love notes because why the hell not, but that’s another story. And it was like a sign from the email gods that my inbox, when in collaboration with Twitter, wasn’t so bad after all. Because it knew I needed that email reminding me that my inbox still wants to bring me pleasure, and not just pain. What greater comfort than affirmation that no matter what, Craig David appreciates me. Now, if it could throw me a job acceptance email any day now that would be just great.