I'd always grown up waiting for something... anything to come in the mail. To my dismay, everything was always addressed to my parents - bills, coupons, magazines and cards. Day in and day out, I'd check the mailbox yearning for a trinket or gift or toy. Needless to say, the mail was always a disappointment. My loyalty to my mailbox was never reciprocated and so I eventually lost interest in it.
When I got a little older and online shopping became popular, I was invigorated and ready, once again, to check the mail - awaiting my purchases. Finally! Ugly jewelry and cheap swimsuits galore! The mailbox had finally redeemed itself in my eyes.
As a newlywed, I spent my first few weeks after the honeymoon settling into my new home and finding little surprises (a.k.a. wedding gifts) in the mail. As the weeks passed, the gifts became scarce. Instead, I was receiving plain old mail like my parents - mostly bills with my name on them. A new feeling of dread came every time I checked the mail. What could it be this time? Car stuff? House stuff? More mail trying to empty my pockets?
Now, the occasional Amazon packages brought my favorite licorice form New Zealand, but they were few and far between. I've been trying to be a savvy spender... you know, since I'm a married woman and all.
Last week something special happened. I got my first copy of the Bon Appetit magazine, "Summer Like an Italian." Now, the mailbox and I are friends.. at least for the next year.
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