 going postal by McBeth. |
(you: Hi McBeth.)
We all have our things, yeah, and that helps me to keep my own thing in a kind of well-but-barely-balanced perspective.
My thing is mail.
I don't mind receiving it.
I just somehow forget to check it in any regular kind of way.
And then even when I do remember to unstick the 43 pieces of junkmail mixed in with the 11 important things from the tight confines of the corner cluster mailbox over and across the street, I just can't get myself to open and respond appropriately. The stuff just piles up like Pisa waiting waiting waiting. It's practically a dare for me, the mail pile hoping I'll add that final camel's back breaking postcard.
And then the thing that happens is that kind'v 'if I'm not looking at it, it ceases to exist' profundity that we marvel at in young infants because they're actually WORKING ON overcoming the thing. But I can vouch for not being the slightest bit admirable in that "awww lookit there, she's growing up so quickly!" ways because I'm nearly 40 years old and the cuteness goes away for those near and dear to me after various agencies over time have temporarily shut off various functions important to my life to get my attention about how important it is to--
(a) receive the bill
(b) open the bill, reviewing carefully
and then
(c) pay.thedamn.bill.
I felt rather proud of myself today for bringing the mail in. My son approached me, asking if I had. "Why yes darling, I did in fact bring in the mail - what, it's not like I don't always eventually get to it. Anyway, why do you ask?"
He was looking for his paycheck. Now I cannot say with one hundred percent assurance that I did not see that paycheck in the tiny pigeonhole of a mailbox, but I WAS juggling a camera and about 62 pieces of mail. So it is within a certain realm of possibility to me that his paycheck could have accidentally been "misfiled" along with the crappy junk mail into the big garbage dumpster outside.
I've crawled into that big ol' stinky dumpster before for lesser things, but I'm not excited about second-guessing my second-guesses, so if his paycheck IS in the dumpster, it'll stay safe and sound for one more day. Otherwise, the check might just show up in tomorrow's mail.
The entire episode has exhausted me to such a point that I believe I shall take a headache remedy and lie down for a while very shortly.
3 comments:
how prosaic; certain sentences that i would just love to see on t-shirts and bumper stickers. you're so good, i might just visit you more often. but my pupils have a hard time adjusting to the rapid light changes you know.
goliard, I'd think long and hard before subjecting my pupils to any dramatics, including light shifts (which, frankly, are only the beginning of the troubles here if you ask me - which you didn't but there's my free advice for the day).
Nevertheless, I am both unnerved and pleased that you stopped over. Don't be a stranger.
I am both unnerved and pleased that you stopped over
then...we've met. in some other life i'm sure.
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