The mail man is an Evil Villain

I decided that I became a Big Girl the day that mail was no longer fun to get, the day the mail man became the symbol, worse yet, the arrival, of darkness. Mail doesn't symbolize pen pals and random letters of inspiration and encouragement and thanks and fairy princesses and ponies and candy stores. No. Mail means bills. Mail means important documents that can't be sent through email or facebook. Mail means, you, Hayley Smith have something I am taking from you, wether it be my time, dignity, or more often than not, my money. When did this happen? When did cute little snail mail turn into a blood sucking leech delivery system?

I drove up to my moms house earlier this week after a phone call saying, "you need to get your mail; there is a huge pile here." Total and utter fear took over me as I climbed the stairs to my mom's studio. What loan did I forget to pay? What credit card company wants my business? Don't even get me started on anthrax. Mail is scary. But that's not the point; the point is, it shouldn't be and it never used to be.

If I was smart I would supply you with my mail address so we could supply this dark hole in my life with sprinkles of sunshine, but I wouldn't guilt trip you all like that. But I will tell you what the front of alllll my mail says....

66 Ocean View Ave #62
Santa Barbara, CA 93103