Mercury in Retrograde Didn’t Send That Email. You Did.

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Let’s have a conversation.

A real one.

Because somewhere out there, right now, a perfectly competent adult has just hit “reply” instead of “forward,” and launched a message into the void that was never meant for mortal eyes.

Except the void replied.

Immediately.



Now listen—I am the first person to blame Mercury retrograde for a great many things.

  • Miscommunication
  • Technology glitches
  • That one text you swear you didn’t send

But even Mercury has limits.

And he is tired of being blamed for emails that were typed, reviewed (allegedly), and sent with full human participation.

Let’s paint the scene.

You receive an email.

It’s confusing. It’s irritating. It’s the professional equivalent of someone handing you a live raccoon and saying, “Can you take care of this?”

Naturally, you do what any reasonable person does.

You go to forward it.

And you add commentary.

Not malicious. Not cruel. Just… honest.

Maybe a little sharp. Maybe a little tired. Maybe a little:

“Is anyone taking this psycho bitch seriously? She's been in treatment for serious injuries for less than six months and she wants to do what? Have a medical miracle? She's out of her mind. One of you deal with it, I don't have time for her level stupid.”

Except.

You didn’t forward it.

You replied.

And now?

Now your internal monologue has become external documentation.

Your private frustration has become a shared experience.

And your ancestors—who survived plagues, wars, and questionable rootwork—are collectively sighing.

The person who received your email now has broken trust with you. They've rescheduled that meeting with another colleague, or worse yet, moved on to another firm. Costing you business, and in some cases, your livelihood. 

Here’s the thing no one tells you:

Email is a spell.



You are taking thought, shaping it into language, and sending it out into the world with intention.

Once it leaves you, it does what it does.

You don’t get to call it back because you didn’t mean it like that.

And just like any spell:

Intent matters. But so does execution.

If your words, when seen by the person they were about, create tension, damage trust, or make you suddenly wish for invisibility?

That’s not Mercury.

That’s a lack of containment.

Now, does that mean you can’t vent?

Absolutely not.

We are not here to bottle things up until we start hexing office equipment.

But there is a difference between:

  • processing
  • clarifying
  • and casually launching your unfiltered thoughts into someone else’s inbox like a flaming arrow

Professionalism, much like good magic, requires discipline.

Not perfection.

Discipline.

So here’s your reminder, delivered with love and just a touch of side-eye:

Before you hit send, ask yourself:

“If this lands exactly where it’s about to land… am I prepared to stand behind it?”

If the answer is no?

Close the laptop.

Drink some water.

Maybe light a candle.

Maybe don’t email anyone until you remember that technology is faster than your ability to undo it.

Because once it’s sent?

It’s sent.

No banishing ritual in the world is pulling that one back.

And Mercury?

Mercury is somewhere in the corner, sipping tea, saying:

“Don’t put that on me, you f*cked this up all on your own sister."

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