Me vs. The Mailbox

The mailbox insisted on remaining empty today.

I'm expecting letters (rejections) from Syracuse and Cornell. But I should say that even when I'm not waiting for anything in particular to come, I'm still crazy about the mail. I feel sad when it's nothing but junk, and part of me wants to do a frantic little angsty dance when there's nothing in it at all.

Maybe it's the little kid in me---every day is another chance for something exciting to arrive, who-knows-what from who-knows-where. A letter from my grandmother, a postcard, an invitation. Anything that isn't trying to sell me something (or to remind me of my debts) feels like a little miracle.

I crave communication that I can put my hands on.

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