My week began with an email calling me an imbecile.
The message was sent at approximately 3:37 on Monday morning. It couldn't wait. It was important that I know, as soon as I wake up and check my phone, that I am an imbecile. This wasn't just an insult. This was a high-priority insult, in the subject line, where I couldn't avoid it.
I happened to come across the email in my junk folder. My first thought: At least Outlook filtered it as spam, and didn't place it in my inbox. That would have been a blow to my ego, to have my email service -- one that I've used for more than 15 years -- agree with the email.
"You know what? Shane is an imbecile. I'm approving this message and pushing a notification to his phone. Hopefully he reads it right away, that idiot."
I didn't read the contents of the email. Not because I was offended by the subject line. If anything, I would have been curious to read why I am an imbecile. An explanation would have been nice. I would have opened the email had there been one.
But there wasn't one, not based on what I saw in the preview window. Rather, there was a sales pitch for pharmaceutical drugs. Or, should I say, drubs. The word "drugs" was spelled incorrectly in the very first sentence of the body of the email.
And I'm the one who's the imbecile.
Later on Monday morning, I shared on Facebook that I'd received a spam email calling me an imbecile. Several friends responded with a comment to the effect of, "Are you sure it was spam?"
I set myself up for that kind of response. I should have saw it coming. Maybe I am an imbecile.
