stamped: return to sender

I'm a disaster.

As you probably already know, my apartment is in Raleigh. I, however, am in Richmond, and have been in Richmond all summer. But you know what goes to apartments? Mail. I mean, mail goes lots of places, but my mail happens to go to my apartment. My mail is usually not very exciting. Forests of trees-turned-fliers-and-coupons generally fill my box, but a few important things come, too.

Now, ordinarilly when someone leaves her apartment for the summer she makes sure to deal with the mail situation. Maybe she has her mail forwarded, or has the post office hold it. Maybe she even has a friend check her mail every once in a while.

But me? I didn't do any of the above. I thought I would be going down there a lot more often during the summer and I could just empty the box every once in a while. Then unforeseen things happened around here and I didn't get away much. Yet even when that turned out to be the case, I still neglected to deal with the mail situation. I pretended that my teeny tiny mail box grew to the size of a locker in my absence and continues to be a happy receptacle for my mail.

The truth, however, is that after the box became crammed full the post office was nice enough to hold my mail for thirty days, and after thirty days was up (at least a month ago) they began to return my mail. It's all gone. A friend checked yesterday and all that's left is a dang flier.

Ugh.