Blame this on Warren Ellis. Like so many things.
“Uh, hey Paul? You haven’t checked your mail in a while. Want me to pull it up for you?” said the voice out of nowhere. I was used to it.
“I’m busy. Scan it for me and let me know if it’s important. Standard parameters.”
“You’ve got three hundred and twelve new messages. I think three hundred and five of them are important. The others are from people you don’t want to talk to, bill notices I already paid and one from your cousin. You declined to attend her wedding. I didn’t use any of the words you describe her with.”
“Connie again? What is that, four?” I asked. Warren keeps track of such things. Then it hit me. “Wait. Three hundred messages? I know for a fact that I cleaned out my inbox six hours ago. Summarize.”
“Um, well, most of them are different. You should read them.”