Putting the “act” in “disappearing act”

Snag in one of my new life goals: Turns out you can’t block an email address unless you have an existing email from the person you’re blocking.

It’s been maybe 6 months since I apparently VERY thoroughly deleted all that in an attempt at mental feng shui.

It’s also been about 6 months since this was even an issue, so I probably don’t NEED to do it. I was just going for a Rachel-Green-style “And THAT, my friend, is what they call CLOSURE.” (I realize that’s a bad metaphor; that turned out a lot differently than this is likely going to.)

And there was comfort in the idea, because there wouldn’t be anymore worrying about letting my guard down when checking email — let’s be honest, stupidly half-hoping I’d ever be worth more than a drunk-texted apology at 3 a.m.

I’d have disappeared, so my brain could be all, “WHAT?! Come at me, bro!” [/Jersey]

Alternately: “Nyah, nyah, you can’t get me!” [/inner child]

Then again, maybe I won’t.

I’m doing that thing where you write a text but then delete it without sending it because you’re too cool. But then I write it again. And delete it again. Because I’m cool.

I’m not cool, you guys. I’m a goddamn spaz.

(Have we taken “spaz” off the politically correct table yet? I feel like we should, but Paulette called herself “spastic” in “Legally Blonde,” and we all know “Legally Blonde” is basically the law. So I’m allowing it.)