I like getting mail. It's always good to have the world acknowledge the fact of your existence. Granted, at times it seems as though it's mostly marketers, junk mailers, and creditors that are aware I exist, but even that level of acknowledgment can be somewhat satisfying. Even on the bad days, to be alive is to be alive.
Days that I open my mailbox to find it empty are a bit of a downer. It's then that you know how Charlie Brown felt when he checked his mailbox at Christmas or Valentine's Day only to discover that no one had bothered to send him a card. Some days not even the bill collectors love you.
Those days are pretty rare, however. Given the absurd amount of stuff I order through the mail, the catalog companies are like my own private harem -- they constantly send me all manner of glossy, full-color love notes in the form of catalogs for clothes, travel gear, and a mind-boggling array of knick-knackery.
It's good to be loved.
(Taken with my Nikon Coolpix S200)
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