Back in my college days (I say that as though it was eons ago), we referred to our mailboxes in the student center as "rejection boxes"--a nod to how depressing it was when we eagerly unlocked those little boxes at dinnertime every evening (and at lunch, and in the middle of the day if we just happened to be passing through...did anyone else do this??) only to be greeted by emptiness.
Living at home for the nine months, we had a friendly little yellow tab on our mailbox to tell us if we had mail, and it was just a short walk to the end of the driveway--or I could reach out from the car on the way in. Now that I'm living in an apartment complex, I have a rejection box again, and I have to walk across the complex to check it every morning.
I feel like I'm in college all over again. Throw on some flip-flops, grab my keys, lock the apartment door behind me, walk over to the mailboxes and expectantly unlock box #505...and it's so disappointing to find a lonely Dillard's flier addressed to "Gabrielle Price or Current Resident."
In this age of e-mail and cell phones, why is "real mail" so important?
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
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