Allow me to indulge myself – I just read a fun, short post from Inc.com titled Spam, Where Art Thou? The author has some highly entertaining metaphors (and similes) in the post regarding her company’s new high-octane spam filter:
This new filter, by contrast, is very efficient; cleansing my inbox of undesirables and dumping them all in spam ghetto, from whence I receive reports several times a week. Occasionally I find something like my CEO’s note has become accidentally trapped, and I release it like a dolphin from tuna nets. Generally, though, I just scan the subject lines. The sheer volume of coarse come-ons, unleavened by less-provocative missives from friends and business contacts, makes me mildly queasy. It’s a bit like tugging a hair clog from the shower drain at the end of the week.
I confess I miss my spam. I like to ease into my work day by sitting down at the PC and whacking away a few low-hanging fruit. Deleting messages titled “Re: Your pharmacy order #390842083;” “Your assistance is needed;” or, perhaps most provocatively, “S&WE&2789ueruu” took only a few seconds and required virtually no brainpower. Yet I felt as though I was accomplishing something: sweeping clean the stoop of my day.
That is the way to start a Monday.