I don't know about you, but I'm feeling pretty darn popular.

It's true. Lately, my email inbox is always full to the brim, and my telephone never stops ringing. It is also true that the people emailing and calling want money, which I would be happy to give them if I knew who the heck they were, which I don't.

Since I've been so awfully busy stockpiling essential items for a winter of hibernation and isolation, it did take a while to read my emails and listen to my messages. In fact, it's only recently that I felt sufficiently confidant with my winter warehousing — a hogshead of gin, a flagon of vermouth and 12 jars of cocktail onions — to free up time to review all the incoming.

It was quite a surprise. Apparently, there's an election going on. Who knew?

Once I started reading my mail and listening to my phone calls, I realized that I had not gained a new group of BFFs. On the contrary, these calls and messages had little to do with me or my wonderful personality. It was almost like they were written by robots! My suspicions were confirmed the day after the election when my email box suddenly emptied and my phone fell silent.

My new friends had left me alone and lonely. I had no emails to ignore and no phone calls to block. I felt like a complete loser. It was then that I discovered a big batch of deeply personal communications totally hidden by the fallout from the political falderol — a series of increasingly frantic messages from my employer.

As everyone knows, getting thrown back into the workflow too abruptly can be hazardous to your mental health. To ease the pain, here's a preview of what you can expect:

Aug. 23, 3:30 p.m.

Email from the IT department:

"We're sorry to inform you that your hard drive has been accidently erased. Fortunately, our cloud back-up system kicked in and saved all the emails you sent to 'SlaveMasterX.' We forwarded these emails to your manager, who has requested your projection for the amount of business we can expect from CallMeSubservient.com."

Sept. 3, 9:15 a.m.

Telephone message from marketing department:

"Hey there, dude! Just a reminder that we're still waiting for your report on the effectiveness of our marketing campaign in the 'Ring of Fire' region of the Aleutian Islands. You'll be happy to know that we have purchased a coach class ticket for you to Unalaska, Alaska. You leave at 4 a.m. tomorrow. A dog sled will meet you at the airport when you arrive, 16 hours later.

"We had hoped to book you into the luxurious One Season Resort, but HR informs us that the cost of rooms is above our company maximum. Fortunately, we managed to get agreement for you to use your travel budget to rent a tent and a sleeping bag. This won't leave much in your per diems to spend on food, but that's OK since there are no restaurants in a frozen tundra ringed with active volcanoes. (Suggestion: Bring a few cans of tuna. Better make that lots of cans of tuna.)"

Oct. 15, 4:30 p.m.

Email from your manager:

"It is time for your annual review, which we would have conducted remotely if you had responded in a timely manner to my earlier emails. Since you did not respond, I had your review without you. This may seem unfair, but I am confident I was able to imagine your response, which was hostile and personally hurtful. Your attitude did play a large part in determining your annual raise, which will be 1%. Though this is a teeny-tiny raise, it will put you in a higher tax bracket, so that should make you feel good."

While your inattention to emails and phone calls from your company is unintentional and may put you in a bad position, there is hope.

Oct. 31, 9 a.m.

Email from the HR department:

"We are surprised to see that you have not responded to our previous emails. Yes, there is a reason we have not deposited your paycheck. Two weeks ago, you were terminated. Do come in when the pandemic is over to pick up your personal items, which we are leaving in a box outside the back door."

Is this good news? I think so. And don't worry. This messy mass of emails and messages won't ever be repeated — at least, not until 2024.

Bob Goldman was an advertising executive at a Fortune 500 company. He offers a virtual shoulder to cry on at [email protected]. To find out more about Bob Goldman and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate website at www.creators.com.

Photo credit: Tumisu at Pixabay