Per My Last Email (And Also My Last Walk Down the Hall…)

There’s a special kind of magic that happens in the modern workplace. Not the inspiring, productivity-boosting kind. No, I’m talking about the kind of magic where someone sends you an email… and then immediately materializes in your doorway like a ghost with a calendar invite.

“Hey, did you see my email?”
Oh, did I? Did I, Karen? It arrived approximately 14 seconds ago, which in corporate time is roughly equivalent
to one blink and half a sigh.

Let’s talk about this curious phenomenon.

The Email Isn’t Real Unless You Ask About It in Person

Some people seem to believe that emails are merely suggestions—like horoscopes or office dress codes. The real communication, obviously, happens when they show up at your desk and hover until you acknowledge them.

You could be:

• In the middle of a meeting
• Typing furiously
• Wearing noise-canceling headphones that practically scream, “PLEASE, I BEG YOU.”

…and yet, there they are.

“Just checking if you saw my email.”

Yes. I saw it spiritually before it even hit my inbox.

The 30-Second Rule (That Apparently Doesn’t Exist)

There is an unspoken expectation from these individuals: emails should be read and replied to within the same time it takes to microwave popcorn. If not, escalation procedures begin.

Step 1: Send email
Step 2: Walk to your desk
Step 3: Ask if you saw the email
Step 4: Wait for you to open it while they stand there, breathing

At this point, the email itself is no longer communication—it’s just a prop in a live-action performance titled
“Let Me Watch You Do Your Job.”

Bonus Round: When You’ve Already Replied

But wait… it gets better.

You reply. Promptly. Professionally. Possibly even cheerfully (which should earn you points somewhere).

And then?

They. Still. Come. To. Your. Office.

“I got your email!”

Fantastic. That was the entire point of the email. The system works! We can all go home now!

But no. Now we must discuss the contents in person, because apparently, written words are merely optional subtitles for the real conversation happening in the hallway.

Meanwhile, In the Land of Technology…

Let’s take a moment to appreciate what we have:

• Email
• Teams
• Chat
• Desk phones (for nostalgia?)

We are living in a golden age of communication tools. You could message me from across the building, across the country, or across time zones.

And yet… you chose… cardio.

The Office Drive-By

There’s also a subtype: the Drive-By Inquirer.

They don’t even fully enter your office. They just appear in the doorway like a surprise pop quiz.

“Hey!”

Just one word. Like a caveman with Wi-Fi.

And before you can even respond, they’re gone… presumably to repeat the ritual with someone else, spreading confusion and mild irritation like workplace confetti.

A Modest Proposal

Let’s make a deal.

If you send an email, give it:

• At least 15 minutes
• Or one full sip of your coffee
• Or enough time for me to emotionally prepare to reply

If it’s truly urgent, sure—come by, ping me, call me, send a carrier pigeon with a tiny briefcase.

But if you just sent it? Trust the process. Let the email… be an email.

Final Thoughts

We don’t need fewer communication tools—we need fewer people treating every email like it’s a cliffhanger that requires live commentary.

So the next time you send an email, resist the urge to immediately walk down the hall.

Sit back.
Relax.
Let the digital revolution do its thing.

And if you really can’t wait?

At least bring snacks when you come and ask.