This post is entitled Alpha Mail. I don’t know when i agreed with myself that the majority of my titles should be puns. I apologize.
After having lived next to 2 imcompetent post offices here in New York, I believe I have fixed my current situation. Apparently, one of the mailman who delievers to me refused to put my mail in my box because my name wasn’t on it. He returned the majority of it to sender. This includes paychecks and bills.
I didn’t know this was the problem until recently when I went over to the post office to pick up a package. “No Name, No Mail!” the woman screamed at me. There’s no way I could have known this was the problem. Especially since the other mailman had no problem putting my mail in there assuming that since 80% of the mail that he got for that address had my name on it, I must live there. My name is now on the box. So everyone should be happy.
At my old address an envelope with a money order in it was stolen. This was around thanksgiving 2004. I was running low on cash and my grandmother was kind enough to save my ass (as she has done many times) and send me my rent. She sent a blank money order so that I could put my landlord’s name on it. I never got it, and we found out it was cashed on my birthday of all days. My grandma called up Western Union and sent in her receipts and such and we never heard about it again. Nobody at the post office could help citing that we should have purchased a tracking number or insurance with a “serves you right” attitude.
Before we found out it was stolen and we thought is was just lost, my roommate joked about the likely probability of mail getting lost. I said “Yeah, except its a guy named Jacob Probability. He goes through all the mail an throws out every 10th letter if it doesn’t have insurance or a tracking number.”
Its a beautiful warm day. Sounds nice, right? Of course it does. Everyone likes warm days. Thing is, its JANUARY! Its the end of JANURAY!! We should be covered in 3 feet of snow! This weather is scary!! Just more evidence that we’re reaching a point of no return with what we’ve done to the planet. We may have already past it.