Monday, 17 October 2011

One reply is yours

I'm sorry. This morning - the one I set aside to answer your email - was pitted with interruptions.

Like our extremely important argument about whether to pass our educational day on a nature trail round a mountain, or by a visit to the geology museum. Both came with ice cream. The resolution took 40 minutes arguing between five people, two slammed doors, and one threat of no dinner.*

But it still meant that your email remained unanswered.

This upset me.

But yours is one of many! I see emails stacked up all around me, filling up every one of my inboxes, and I'm feeling guilty. I simply must reply. How difficult is this? VERY.

Meanwhile, people are receiving this deafening silence. Now I wouldn't want the people I care about (and who I would like to care about me) to assume I am a cruel and heartless bitch who is simply ignoring them. Even though sometimes, I am.

I have decided to write to everyone here instead. You will surely fit one of these replies.

Hi! I'm not ignoring you. Honest! It's just that my answer to your email was overtaken by another family debate. For now, take your pick from the answer below.

I am sorry, so grovellingly, apologetically, sorry. Remorseful enough to send myself lashings of self flagellation. But still don't expect an answer anytime soon. I don't know why I'm so crap. Nor why I assume so much on your friendship. I am ashamed. I think I'm going to cry. (Somehow that is still easier than sending you an email.)

I'm ignoring that and pretending you didn't send it.

Your email was hilarious. It made me laugh from here to Jericho and back. I need to write you back something of equal merit. You can now expect silence. Maybe after a tortured month thinking about it, I'll finally reply with a very unfunny observation and an obscure and puzzling comment about the kettle.

You rendered me speechless. I do not know what I could reply. Seriously, you floored me with that expression of undying love/permanent hatred.

Whooaa! I have serious foreboding. I should think about this. If I write it wrong, I'm done for. What if an ill-considered, over-hasty answer like mine ends up on the front page of the Daily Mail? I'm sorry, you'll have to wait. Prudence takes time.

Oh shut up going on about that. Can't we just be friends?

Home education politics huh? This one deserves five hours of research, bullet points, considered phrasing, in-text referencing, and action plan of proposed strategy. Is there any surprise that I haven't answered?

*Home education is a hard choice, is it not? In the end, the kids chose by a vote: the geology museum for the carbon, then the Art Museum for the old pots on the top floor. Both on the University of Hong Kong campus. Hey, I bought three colour-it-yourself anatomy books too! I might give the children those for Christmas, as a treat.

4 comments:

Pig in the Kitchen said...

Grit, so lovely to see you are still here. and love the title of your other site :-) about to catch up on your blog posts...

Deb said...

Hmph.

If you really loved me you'd email me personally. I am bereft now. BEREFT I say! (mostly because who doesn't love that word and want to work it in whenever possible? Also "paradigm")

This is why Twitter is so handy. Only 140 characters, so no one expects much. Plus, you can dash off a quick tweet whilst refereeing (firstly, I feel like a moron saying "tweet." secondly, it might irritate the girls if you hold up a finger and then text furiously. added bonus!)

Rachel M. said...

Well you don't owe me any emails but now I kinda wish you did. I'll just pretend I sent one and this applies to me!

Kelly said...

Well, you don't owe me any emails, but if you did, I'd let you off the hook regardless, because I don't know how the heck you do what you do and write the blog. And you know my position on this--I've pretty much stopped writing anybody anything ever to get a real life back. But I still love your blog. And still come online just to read it.