One thing I really hate is the invention of email and messages.

And I know that probably makes me sound older than I am—but do you remember when you just called someone? Or showed up at their door if you wanted to talk?

What really gets to me is how responsibility is handed out now.
Without warning. Without consent.

With a phone call, it’s usually clear what’s been said, what’s been agreed, and who’s responsible for what.
But with email or text, someone can quietly transfer a task or a decision to me—just by hitting send.
Even something small, like “Want to meet up next week?”
As soon as I’ve received that message, the ball is in my court.
Now I’m the one who has to respond, decide, move things forward.

It’s like people can assign me responsibility without even asking me if I have the space for it.
And the only way to give it back is to answer.

I think this is more of a work thing than a personal one. But it’s the not-knowing part that wears me down—the way I can’t control how much I’m taking on, just by opening my inbox.
Add that to the expectation of always being reachable, and it becomes this exhausting cocktail.

In times when I’ve been too stressed, I’ve just stopped responding altogether.
Which of course only makes it worse.
Then I’m stuck making excuses—some better, most worse—for why I haven’t replied.

Right now I’m mostly on parental leave, so the pressure’s eased a bit. But I still find myself fantasizing about setting an auto-reply that just says: If you want a response—call me.

Text messages though...
I still haven’t figured those out.