I'm not too busy, in my frenzy of work, to check my emails a hundred times an hour. It's the 21st century equivalent of the lovesick teenager standing by the phone, I suppose. I don't have the patience to wait for it to refresh every ten minutes. It's like a nervous tic, an OCD. And all day the music blasting through the headphones. And all the while, time is passing: at different speeds in different places, the way time does.
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