When I was a kid, I used to love to check the mail. It was a rare occurrence that I would get anything, but every once in a while there was that magazine or pen-pal letter addressed to me. It was like getting a present for no reason in particular. What’s a pen-pal letter? Well kids, back in the days before the internet…
Then I became an adult. Instead of getting fun stuff in the mail, I started getting bills. Yuk! Who wants bills? So checking the mail became a depressing chore rather than a fun excursion to that box of mystery. Sometimes, I won’t check the mail for days on end. I try to do it at least once a week so as not to upset my mail carrier. Junk mail takes up a lot of room in my overly-tiny apartment style mailbox, and he will cram stuff in there if it gets too full.
I will be sad when the responses start to dwindle down. No more adventures to the mystery box. No more child-like enthusiasm for the mail. I am not looking forward to the constant reminder of responsibility that comes with adulthood. But for now, I have an entire month of mail checking to look forward to, and I intend to enjoy every last day of it.