If you own a Canary, I'm somewhere in your inbox, probably getting comfy in between a chain letter from grandma and a message from an old friend you've put off responding to because you keep meaning to sit down and write something thoughtful but something keeps coming up and the longer you go without responding the more you feel pressured to write a novel so even though you're wracked with guilt even when you're not staring blankly at your inbox there's now no response you could possibly send that would make up for the fact that you're the worst person ever and that you should probably fake your own death and start a second family in Toronto just so you don't have to start another email with "sorry for the delayed response!"

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