An email drops

An email drops into my inbox, a simple, single email.  It’s one of many but it isn’t expected and it isn’t wanted.  It’s not even addressed to me.  It was forwarded to me by a colleague, copied into me as it mentions my name in its text.  My name is spelt out and not in a favourable way.  This is not going to be good news. 

I scan through it, flick my eyes across the words trying to get a sense of what it is about, a flavour of the issues it holds within its body, an essence perhaps but the more I read the less I am able to read.  Suddenly I find that I’m boiling, seething, incensed at what it is saying.  It is accusing, it is inflammatory, it puts words in my mouth, it makes commitments that I never agreed to and above all it is just plain wrong.  The author, if that is what they are, the scribe, the button tapper has misunderstood the premise upon which the subject is based, they have misinterpreted the laws of the land, they have focussed on issues which do not exist other than in the corners of their own mind and they have taken it upon themselves to teach grannies.

But what is worse is that they have copied in the world.

I close the mail, move onto the next one and pretend to myself that I am reading it but I am not, I am not taking it in.  My pride, my self-worth, my ability to concentrate have left me and gone for a wander around the office.  I can feel their presence but I have lost control over them. 

I get up from the chair and try to recover but it doesn’t help.  The email is going round in my head, round and round.  I’ve written the response a thousand times already, each time with greater wit and greater repartee.  Each time it is more acerbic and more hurtful.  I’m going to send it everyone, show him up for his foolish ways, point out to everyone his lack of intellect, his lack of understanding and I’m going to make him feel small.  It is a worm that is eating away at me.  It is a clock that is ticking on the wall and when I stop I hear it and I need revenge, I need to humiliate and above all I need to inflict pain.  I have crafted a stinging response, razor sharp, ice-cold but filled with venom, a slow lingering poison that will do its damage over hours, days and weeks. 

No, no, that’s not right, it’s just an email, just an email from a guy that I don’t know, someone I’ve met, someone I’ve spoken to but not anyone that is important to me. 

Rise above it.  Be a better person.

I press delete, my reply has gone for ever and I will consider a better response when I’m calm and collected and less aerated because, after all it was just an email that dropped into my inbox.