I don't know how many of our readers have a Systems Administrator, but he's not a popular fella around The Mirror office.
For simplicity, I'll refer to Systems Administrator as "SAM." -- the unknown being that sends e-mails that begin "Warning, your mailbox is reaching its size limit," and continues to list incomprehensible details about kilobytes and storage.
I've learned from experience that ignoring these warnings puts a halt to all e-mail activity, both sending and receiving.
The most aggravating part is SAM doesn't send just one notice. He tends to send several. Obviously, this takes up space/kilobytes, which hastens my mailbox to "reaching its size limit."
The obvious solution is to delete e-mails as I read them, but the results are the same as when I tell my son to clean the bathroom -- "I forgot."
The e-mails are my "memo pad." If deleted, then I don't remember the time of the banquet I'm supposed to cover, or the spelling of the keynote speaker's name. If someone's name is misspelled, then they lose their sense of identity, and it would seem as if I wrote about someone else. Which would seem as if someone never spoke at the banquet. Which would make me seem pretty unobservant. All because of SAM's strict code enforcement.
Also, the size limit isn't just for the "inbox" -- it combines the "deleted, drafts, junk, out, and sent" boxes.
I figured the solution. I can create "archive/large folders" and move my e-mails into them. It seems simple enough, and I'm sure that's what SAM intends.
But SAM has never met Lynn. In Lynn's world, "filed" is the same as "deleted," which is the same as "forgotten."
My unorganized mind thinks "filed" means "taken care of." An organized mind would know that it means "look in here for what you need." But I wasn't splashed with any "organized" genes in my gene pool.
That's why my desktop is scattered with papers. If I file them, I forget them. I need to rummage through them daily and say "oh yeah, don't forget that."
It seems simple. But I sort of have two desks. Across the room, we now have a separate computer to process our pictures. Almost daily, I sit in front of it and insert the memory card into the card reader, only to realize that I left my glasses on my desk.
So, I walk to get them, then return to the spare computer. Once there, I realize I left my ink pen back on my desk when I was looking for my glasses.
I could go on, but my space is reaching its size limit.