I just want my missives to be as good as they can be! Help me be the best me I can be, friend

These are EMAILS, not missives. Wake up and smell the technology. Also why aren’t you texting each other? Email is a bizarre choice of medium

It’s romantic. It’s the closest we’ve got to letters

Apart from actual … letters

Too slow

I think the slowness would do you good

There’s a lot to be said for spontaneity

No there isn’t. Spontaneity ruins lives

At least in the olde days they understood the true power of the written word

That was all they had! It was fucking years between dances! They might be dead before they saw each other again! It’s not like that now. You’re going to Nando’s next week so chill the fuck out

I AM CHILLED, I EMBODY CHILLED

I’m going to ask you this once, just once: what are you scared of? It’s like I’ve never seen this side of you. Where has it come from?

Hahahahahah I really do not know what you are talking about, mate

Okay. Did you start the emailing or did he?

Him. Why?

Just asking

It was a very complimentary email

It’s still his choice of medium though, isn’t it? You’re in a safe little box. That’s all I’m saying

You only don’t like him because he makes you feel morally inferior in your food choices and I know that’s true because you’ve started buying RSPCA-approved salmon

Very surprised you have time to analyse the contents of my fridge these days given how much time you’re devoting to being online

Do you think I’m quirky enough for him tho? He shot Patti Smith the other day and he knows a LOT about films

Look, just because he owns a copy of Battleship Potemkin and has a few tattoos doesn’t mean he’s not a mainstream twat

But then I think she warmed to him.

SOBER SEXTS

WHERE

Are you and what are you doing?

This was a regular line of questioning from Art in the early days. I relished it. I took my time replying. I cracked my back and waggled my fingers, magician-like. I crafted my responses.

Kelly told me off for it. I suppose she was getting annoyed at this point by how many emails I was getting her to proofread and suggest better jokes for.

‘These are emails, Jenny,’ she said. ‘Not TV comedy scripts.’

‘But they matter,’ I argued. ‘There’s no way I’m sending substandard communication.’

‘But they’re too laboured. They’re … overwrought. You’re better when you’re fast and unconsidered.’

‘Hush. Now – do I use the word “mystery” or “mystique”?’

I started running drafts of tweets by her, for her approval.

‘I’m not doing this,’ she said. ‘I’m not feeding the beast.’

‘What beast?’