I hate picking up my mail. You might say I have an aversion to it. Like a cat to water. There is very rarely anything good in the mail, unless it takes the form of a magazine. But mostly it is filled with bills and other statements to inform you that you owe people money. It is not really the expected bills that bother me - the phone bill, the credit card bill, or the bill for my monthly supply of mayonnaise (don't ask). But it's the unexpected bills that get to me, like the $100 parking ticket, which is now $200 because I did not pay it. The reason I did not pay it is because it never appeared on the DC DMV's handy ticket-payment Web site, so I thought maybe it 'got lost.' (A word of wisdom: parking tickets do not 'get lost.' They simply 'age,' and get more expensive, like a fine wine.) Then there was the letter I got informing me of the $250 I owe for a doctor's visit that was denied by my insurance company because they have a temperamental automated phone system that likes to tell doctor's offices that I'm no longer covered. A simple direct call to a live person will rectify the situation, but most doctor's offices won't do that, even if you tell them ahead of time.

Yes, the mail can single-handedly cause my day to come crashing down around me. I might be having a perfectly fine day, full of good smells, pleasant scenery, and a tub full of mayonnaise (oops, I gave it away). Then I'll get a letter like this and I'll spend a good 30 minutes to and hour cursing, gnashing my teeth, and generally making Catherine's life a living hell.

For this reason, I tend to let the mail pile up until it reaches a critical mass where it can no longer be avoided and when I know that certain bills are due. This strategy doesn't really decrease my level of anxiety so much as it lessens the frequency of it.

The US post office prides itself on delivering the mail come rain, sleet, and snow. Whatever the circumstances, we can all rest assured that the mail will be delivered, no matter the cost. All I have to say is Why? USPS, why? Why this steadfast dedication to delivering us this bad news? Can't you be just a little less competent, a little less reliable, like everybody else. Why don't you go take a lesson or two from the DC DMV? They've got lots of cool tricks they can show you.(Incidently, I'm still not sure if I own the Mercedes or not and I can't subject myself to the torture involved in finding out.)

But let me end on a good note: Even though I normally hate getting the mail, I recently received three birthday cards, reminding me that not all mail is bad. One was from Sarah and Randy (I miss you guys!), another was from Ashley (wish I had been able to visit you while you lived in Chicago), and the third was from my grandmother (she'll never see this, but thanks, grandma!). Cards are fun. Even if I have a mail pile started, I usually go ahead and open the birthday cards right away. Just before relaxing in a tub full of mayonnaise.

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