For two days I didn’t pick up the mail. No bills to worry about. No get-rich offers to resist. No once-in-a lifetime bargains for timeshare in Trinidad and Tobago. And no solicitations from charities to make me feel guilty.
Things just aren’t the same anymore. Gone are the days of anticipation when the mail delivery held the possibility of a new job, a college acceptance, a love letter, a secret decoder ring or some other exciting offer you got as a kid with your sugar-coated, artificially colored and artificially flavored breakfast cereal.