Intro: Well, Are You?

He feels his heart beating faster. He can’t blame it all on the screen time. It’s the 21st century, after all. We are all walking automatons staring at different types of screens all day. They are all different varieties with similar heights and finishes. With the shallowly lit computer screen staring back at him, something about this moment makes his breathing more shallow and forced. Something about the words on the screen gives him pause.

It’s different from the thousands of words he usually types. Different combinations of the exact words strung together like some occupational Jenga: “We can circle back on that later” mixes well with “Please advise” and “Let’s set up a Zoom call for the afternoon of the 14th.” Different combinations are going out to the world, all with the same message: this is the vehicle to get the machinations of money moving. It is a means to an end – what end, nobody knows. But the work emails string together in utter nonsense but come out white as snow on the other side. Nobody knows how, and nobody cares how. But in this moment, the words on the screen matter.

You aren’t sending it to send it. You’ve thought about it carefully. Hell, you made several drafts. You don’t even do that for important work emails. You wrote and deleted words before coming up with the perfect sentence to send. Is it the recipient? It’s not a communication to another office drone this time. This time, it matters more. This time, there is more on the line mentally and less on the line literally. The touch and go of daily life spelled out with your fingertips. And here you are: waiting to hit “enter” to the perfect execution of your thoughts, ideas, hopes, and beliefs. All in this moment, there is nothing else that matters. You can’t tell if this will be a blip in the soundtrack to your life or if this is the song you’ll play at your funeral. So you say the words aloud as you type, retype, edit, and delete. Start over. Exit out of the screen and enter again. All to say the same word in different variations – but now it sounds like work. It feels like work, which you don’t like. You will try to detach those emotions from this seemingly emotional moment. You finally release all your feelings and anxiety and hit enter. The words pop up on the screen like the results of a game show. You smirk in satisfaction as you await a response. This is what accomplishment feels like.

All for four words: “Hey, are you up?”

Return to In the Chat Box: Stories of Digital Love and Disdain