Purgatory goes Postal

...or, please don't send me packages.

I love getting letters. They may arrive a month late, but they usually do arrive. They slide under the front gate and fill my life with so much joy (and occasionally tears. I really really love getting them).

Packages...not so much. Getting a package means going to the customs office on the other end of town, where everyone takes a number and no one honors it (sometimes being 6 feet tall helps me push my way forward...sometimes not), and then waiting for hours in a room that, like all waiting rooms, reminds me of Dante's purgatory. Then, in the fullness of time, I get to go forward, pay a bunch of unexplained fees, and (cue the Mario music) get the package. This process has been 33% effective so far. More often than not, though, the package mysteriously 'never arrives'. At the moment, since April 26th, my computer charger is in a black hole (purgatory?) between LA and Argentina, and I'm wondering how to apply the medieval logic of 'when a coin in the coffer rings, a soul from purgatory springs' to the postal system. Hmm...

But, in the meantime, as I said, I do very much enjoy receiving letters (percentage success rate: somewhere in the mid 90's)! Thank you Jessamine, Debbie, Grandma RoseAnne, Teresa, Kelsy, Mom, Dad, Grandma Carol and Grandpa Eldon, and Andrew for your letters! If I could, I would snail mail one right back!

And thank you for your prayers for my charger- it's one of those little conveniences that are really, really convenient!