More wisdom from Buddy

Well hello and welcome once again! Yes, it is I, Buddy, your corporate guide to spiritual enlightenment... wait, is that right? Or is it "your spiritual guide to corporate enlightenment?" Well, I'm sure you'll choose whichever is right for you!
I see that you're struggling to cope with your email as you sit there in your leather-upholstered executive power-seat, and the way that vein throbs in your forehead when I mention it -- I can see that this is a sore point for you. A stress-point, somewhere that your underlings and headcount can apply pressure and take revenge on you for the petty immoralities you commit daily against them. Ah, you look even less happy now.
What you need, my student, is a system to handle all of this for you, in an easy, intuitive way. You need a GUIDE: a Good Understanding of Inbox-Driven Email.
Your Inbox is the source of all your stress. When you look at, it looks back at you, and sees deep into your soul in a Nietzschean feedback loop that slowly saps your sanity. Look at your Inbox -- you have over 4,000 messages in there, of which you've read perhaps ten percent. All those other emails haunt your dreams, invite themselves to your corporate luncheons, and taunt you in meetings, whispering in your ears that you've missed the email that would make the meeting make sense.
Oh, Sandy from Accounting wants you to know that your expenses won't be approved until you can demonstrate that 'Ginger' is actually a client.
For Inbox-Driven Email we work solely with the Inbox and ignore anything that's not in there. So we need first of all to clear out all the email in your Inbox and start you from a clean system. Like a reboot.
Consider, if you will, the tale of the lonely mouse. The lonely mouse lived in a corporate office, sneaking out after everyone else had left for the day and enjoying the silence and the space to get his work done. The lonely mouse would relax at last, certain that no-one would disturb his focus, break his concentration, or catch him picking his nose (on those very rare occasions when it itched uncontrollably). And he would work very, very hard, putting together spreadsheets, documents and agenda on topics of deep and abiding interest to him: the lack of cheese in the fridge ("Who moved my cheese?" was his first classic email), the benefits of vi over emacs, and staunchly defending the office's anti-cat policy. But the mouse was lonely, never hearing the interactions of his co-workers and never invited to meetings to discuss office policy, or to taste the cheese that had been found in the fridge with no name attached. He suffered from a lack of connection with his co-workers, and he felt listless and fidgety by turns.
Then, while fidgeting near his desk, he spotted a tasty-looking cable and decided to chew on it. This was very satisfying for a couple of minutes, and then he chewed through the insulation to the conducting core and was electrocuted almost instantly. This caused some system-wide anomalies, and the entire content of his Inbox was deleted at the same time as he died.
None of his colleagues noticed, and the office bought a cat just two days later.
The moral of this tale is, of course, that the quickest way to empty your Inbox is to chew through the power cable for your computer. Go ahead now, try it. Just try i--.