I Formally Request Removal of the Reply-All Button

Okay, it's been two weeks! Time for me to tell The Email story.

We work in a typical office/cube farm. We're discouraged from socializing too much, so my coworker and friend (M), who sits on the other side of my desk divider, and I will shoot each other the occasional email to share our goofy commentary about the office happenings. This particular chain started like this. The names have been changed to protect the innocent:

Me: Ugh, I haven't been tracking my project hours at all for the last 2 weeks. I think I need a session with [Time-Tracking Nazi].

M: Ohh, you need a session allll riiight...

Me: Yep. And Good Lord! [Loud Talker] just said to someone on the phone, "Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to talk over you..." Really?

M: Ha! [Lunch Stealer] just cleared his throat when he saw me take out my breakfast! I know he wants me to share my food! Is it lame that I don't want to share??

Me: So not lame!! Have you seen me with pop tarts! [attached pic of ferocious tiger]

M: Ha! I know, right?! And what's up with all the coughing in here? It's like a TB ward. [Sick Girl] just coughed up a lung, and [Sick Guy] needs it! You know him, the guy I called Jeremy for the first two weeks he worked here.
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As I was reading her last response, I heard her gasp and say, "Oh. My. God." I jumped up and peeked over the divider. "What!?" Her face was bright red and panicked as she whispered, "I accidentally copied everyone!"

Simultaneously, I heard a buzz of voices rise above the cubicles as coworkers received the email. It was the same buzz you hear at Bingo night when someone calls a full-card, jackpot-winning Bingo -- one of shock and annoyance.

I started sweating, and I could feel my heart pounding against my ribcage. "You... What?!" I quickly sat down at my desk and re-read what I had written.

M stuttered, "I, uh, couldn't remember that kid's name... (Jeremy??) So I added the company distribution list to check. I forgot to remove it!"

I kept reading, skipping her emails, only concerned with what might get me in trouble. Though I did mention [Loud Talker], the rest of my emails were pretty tame. The whole string could have been much, much worse. If I remember correctly, in one of our email chains from the previous week, the term "crack-whore" was being thrown around pretty loosely...

Still, we went into damage-control mode. M and I apologized in person to those we offended. Most had a good sense of humor about it, even [Lunch Stealer].

The worst part is that I'm a Supervisor. Way to set a good example. We decided to be proactive about it and meet with my manager. We went into her office. She asked us to sit down and gave me a look of disappointment. Then she said she had to step out to use the restroom quickly.

M and I were now alone. I turned to her, tears brimming my eyes. "I'm going to cry! I can't believe this... I am going to cry! One look of disappointment, and I'm going to cry."

M stared back at me, shocked, "No you're not!"

"I am. I will. I know it," I said, as my manager came back into the room.

"Listen, ladies..." she began with a stern voice. That's all it took for me. Tears started falling down my face. Since I was a child, I could take almost any form of punishment. Except the old "I'm disappointed in you." "Why are you crying?" she asked.

"I guess I'm just embarrassed," I blubbered. God love her, she actually got up and gave me a hug. Maybe this is why I cry. It's hard to punish someone who's clearly already punishing herself.

M kept her edge as usual, and said confidently, "Listen. We're all adults here. Sh*t happens. Can't we just put this behind us? I sent out an email apology."

"What did the email say?" my manager asked.

M replied with frustration and impatience, "It said just that! 'Sh*t happens. Sorry guys.'"

My manager seemed unimpressed. "Ok, well at 2pm today we're having a staff meeting, the one about inappropriate email usage..."

Crap. Forgot about that.

"I think you should formally apologize at the start of the meeting," she continued. I could handle that punishment. M and I agreed and went back to our cubes.

As I sat down at my desk to lick my wounds, M poked her head over our divider. "Dude! What the f*ck was that?? You were all 'Puss in Boots,' and I was 'Donkey.' Hee-haw! Hee-haw!"

"I don't know!! I can't help it."
"Well, what's wrong with me?"
"What do you mean??"
"I didn't cry like that."
"You're normal."
"Maybe I have no remorse. What does that say about me?"
"Honestly?"
"Yeah?"

"I think that you care more than I do. You just rebel against feelings of remorse, fight against it and get pissed off. I cry like a baby worried someone won't like me. I'm pretty sure I don't give a f*ck about hurting their feelings. What does that say about me?"

The whole experience was very liberating for me, right down to the public apology. I just did not care. I said what I felt, and everyone knew it. Yep, at 29, I still occasionally do some childish things. This is who I am. Good. Great.

In the meeting with my manager, M joked about bringing Ellie in the office to lighten the mood, and my manager said, "I don't think Ellie needs to see her mom in this moment."

I didn't respond but later thought, "Really? Why not? This is exactly what I want her to see... That it's okay to make a mistake, that it's okay to cry about it, that you have the strength to make it right, and that it doesn't matter what people think about you."

Oh, and that "this too shall pass..." This week an employee was escorted out of the building, and amidst the drama, our little email chain was long forgotten.