This is a sad post. Not sad as in tears, but sad as in, Oh, wow. You're a loser. So any of you who gave me coolness points for sleeping on the streets of NYC or for biting that drunk jerk, if you're going to drop my coolness rating, please don't tell me.
Like most people I feel annoyed when all I get in the mailbox is junk mail. (Although you may seriously doubt that after reading this post.) I want a letter people! Good old fashioned stamps and envelopes with paper and ink on the inside. And it must start with "Dear Kellie," instead of, "Ms. Buckner."
However, the other day (no, not the day I escaped to my mailbox, another day) there was no real mail in my little box. There was nothing. No junk mail, no real mail, nothing. I sighed as I closed the little door and walked back to the elevator. I left for the store and came back about an hour or so later. As I pulled in, I noticed the mail truck sitting in the parking lot! Yay! A second chance! Maybe I wasn't forgotten! Oh the possibilities! A pizza ad? I know there's a Dominos near. Or maybe Bed Bath and Beyond, promising me $10 off my purchase of $50. . . . Oh, I know! Maybe I was sent some personalized return address stickers with birds on them, or drawings made by kids. Anything, please!!! except a bill. anything except a bill.
Is it sad that that day I needed junk mail to make me feel good? In a way legit? I'm a person. Did I need the junk mail to tell me I am legitimately a person? A "valued customer?" Yes. It is sad. Wow. Y'all that know my address. Maybe you could toss me postcard or something. Or at least send me your old Valu-Pak.
