My boss is considering a ban on internal emails.

When she mentioned this at our weekly managers’ meeting the idea was met with huge resistance. Several heads of department were horrified by the prospect, voicing their disquiet at the radical policy. Staff would walk out, they bemoaned.

I, on the other hand, couldn’t contain my enthusiasm for the proposal, excitedly asking when it would be in place.

Emails are my pet hate. I dread any time spent out of the office, be it a quick loo break or a two-week jaunt to the Bahamas, because inevitably my inbox will rapidly fill to the brim during my absence.

Like most of my colleagues, I receive so many emails in a day that I spend most of my work time simply replying to them, not actually being productive or achieving anything significant.

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I’ve got into the habit of sitting at my desk, waiting for an email to ping into my inbox. When it does, I answer it straight away, patting myself on the back for being such a great, pro-active employee, wondering however did I do my job without email. With a lot more efficiency I expect.

Email has to be one of the most frustrating – and non-productive - work tools.

I have colleagues who don’t even pick up the phone any more, choosing instead to fire off an email.

They are losing the art of the telephone conversation, with a couple of them physically panicking when they are asked to pick up the phone and make a call.

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It’s easy to hide behind an email, too. There have been many occasions I have been sent an email from a colleague for the sole purpose of that person covering their backs. The hot potato game.

“I did email Tabitha with the request,” goes the passive aggressive response.

The fact it was sent at 6pm on a Friday when I cannot action anything until the Monday is immaterial – an email was sent.

The world is made up of two types of people – those that want in, those that want out. I, for one, cannot wait to exit my inbox.