You've got A-Mail! I'm Anna Codrea-Rado, and this is my email newsletter, aka A-Mail. Today, I'm introducing a new series called (no subject). It's inspired by the emails my friends and I exchanged in the early 2010s. Back then, we'd email back and forth with theories, questions, and observations about work, life, love, and pop culture. Those messages got me through the awkward early years of office life, and right now, I think all of our inboxes could use some of that joy and levity. (no subject) is my attempt at a low-key, plain html version of an email from one friend to another. Thoughts and silly opinions about stuff that really doesn't matter—because that's easier to think about than the stuff that actually does. In (no subject) issue #1, I present a theory about productivity advice, make a case for why beans don't need to be in jars, and pose a question about Dawson's Creek. If you like it, I'll send you some more thoughts soon. A theory about productivity adviceI've been in a rut lately, obsessively consuming productivity advice but rarely following through. And I think I know why. Most productivity hacks only address the first two steps of being productive - 1) figuring out what needs to be done, and 2) planning how and when to do it. However, they largely neglect the crucial third step: ACTUALLY DOING THE WORK. Techniques like time blocking merely repackage the planning phase, tricking us into feeling productive just by filling calendar slots, when true productivity requires actively working during those blocked times. The Pomodoro technique is one of the few methods I know of that forces you into the execution phase through its timed work intervals. The rest is just dressed-up procrastination! Now, is overanalysing the pitfalls of productivity advice the ultimate form of procrastination? Probably. A list of things that are cool, not cool and both🆒 Cool: Sending voice notes in chapters. 👎 Not cool: Restaurants that serve small food on big plates at tables too small to fit the big plates on. 🤷 Both cool and also not cool: Newsletters. A strong opinion about something dumb: beans in jarsA £5 jar of butter beans is trolling me. I can’t enter a group chat without someone mentioning how a glass jar from the Bold Bean Co has changed their lives. Yes yes, I've tried them - they're...fine? I suppose I can see how eating them naked in a salad might seem marginally better than their canned cousins. I don't have that culinary need because I hate cold food so I mainly cook my legumes. Plus, at the rate I go through them (5 cans per week min), upgrading to the premium variety would increase my monthly bean budget from £5 to £25. In this economy! I blame Alison Roman. From her infamous chickpea stew to her brothy bean recipes, she catapulted the humble legume to cult status. As an Eastern European immigrant, I have mixed feelings about the fetishisation of peasant food. On the one hand, I’m happy to see proletariat foods get the recognition they deserve. However, I can't help but feel uneasy about the capitalistic inevitability that comes with it – commodification. The health-conscious consumer was an easy target for jarred beans; we’re deathly afraid of toxins and glass = safe. Consider all of this in the context of our cultural compulsion to disrupt everyday items by giving them a brand, a story, an identity. And that’s how we ended up a “Queen Butter Bean”. This isn't a dig at those who indulge in little luxuries (let she who has a £15 tub of single-origin almond butter in her cupboard cast the first stone). It's an interrogation of what overpriced kitchen staples say about our culture. The elevated basics of the pantry aisle somehow became our new status symbols. All outward markers of success are bullshit but at least old-money assets – corner offices, expensive watches and company cars – held some value (Rolexes outperform the stock market!). Whereas today’s flexes – Aesop hand soap, Monmouth coffee, Ortiz tuna, anything from Whole Foods, and now a jar of beans – are literal perishables. I feel like I’m living inside a Reductress meme: Woman Has No Pension Plan, But She Does Have Magic Beans. Anyway, I heard that if you get the beans on subscription that saves you 15%. Anyone got a referral code? A rewatch: is a Pacey Witter a young Chandler Bing?I’m technically a culture reporter but I’m not great at my job because I don’t sit at the bleeding edge of the arts. Instead, I travel to past cultural eras. Case in point: I'm currently watching Dawson's Creek for the first time ever (yeah, not even a re-watch). And a thought has entered my head that I can’t unthink: Pacey Witter reminds me of Chandler Bing? He uses humour as an emotional shield, gets twitchy when a girl gets too close, has a strained relationship with his dad, and falls for his best friend. I can’t unsee it and now the entire show feels like a parallel universe prequel to Friends. thoughts?
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