Are we absolutely certain the world hasn’t ended? Only, for the first time in living memory (at my age that’s about five minutes) I have made myself a coffee, scraped stuff into the bin, wondered anxiously about cleaning out the fridge, woken up the little laptop on which I compose all these great thoughts and which is the repository of all the world’s wisdom, and found zero emails in my in-box tray thing!
Okay, keep calm. It’s a Saturday. Check. Somebody’s Sabbath. But I always get overnight messages, even on Sundays, no-one is a respecter of religious rest-days anymore, even God shops on a Sunday. It’s December 29th, which is close to, but not yet quite, New Year’s day, a bank holiday. But with the international dateline in perpetual motion, whizzing around the globe at 18000 mph, it’s always a bank holiday somewhere, nicht war? Conversely, there are always parts of the world where some kid has to get up and schlepp into an office to send me an email, business going on 24/7. And, yes, I am not logged-out. Not yet. Yahoo! only logs you out when you are just at the point of sending a long, urgent and detailed message. While you’re asleep it never rests, eternally vigilant and ready for the call.
So I always get emails. Every morning. Oh, not from anyone real, of course not. But from all the webnet thingies I’ve been congratulated for my success in registering with:
- Futile reminders to update my ads on Classified sites where I’ve had no enquiries for months for things I am desperate to sell.
- Newsletters from expatriate organisations in warm countries with pavement cafes where I’d be living the life of a flaneur if only I could sell my house (I’ve had two firm offers but no-one can move, we’re all stuck because one absurd mortgage company pretend ‘surveyor’ has decided counterfactually that my house needs a new roof…. I hope he had the worst selection of Christmas presents since the infant Christ was forced to write thank-you letters to the Three Wise Men.)
- Wittily mis-targeted ‘job alerts’ seeking chief executives with accounting skills, casting calls for 22-year-old hair-extension models (£unpaid).
- Special offers from online guitar stores (Now, Gibson, ONLY £999.99! — yeah, try selling it again…) and a sheet music company I’ve never bought any sheet music from (Now with 50% extra notes!…).
- A guy called Howard I once contacted about a course of online piano lessons, wanting to sell me some more pianos.
These are my regulars. Where have they all disappeared to? And where, indeed, are my lovely spammers, when you need reassurance? Gone, all gone.