In the midst of moving, planning to move, packing to move, purchasing items to move and continuing with my two jobs in Vermont (I have a little over a week remaining at both), I paid $30 to the federal government for a 3 by 5.5 inch post office box about a mile from my new apartment.
My payment was processed in Washington and I filled out a U.S. postal service application once the fee was processed. I was assigned my box and keys yesterday.
Something about this tiny small town post office was adorable. The office is wood paneled with a 1970s-era faded world map on the wall near the envelopes and stamps for sale.
The rows of boxes in the main lobby are metal and glass with iron hinges and detail. I can't decipher if the boxes are extraordinarily old and historic or only a few decades old but with a pronounced style.
On the subject of mail, I find snail mail to be one of the more exciting parts of life. Since returning from Scotland, I've closely maintained e-mail/skype correspondence with friends from afar as a simple, constant, free and enjoyable way to remain in contact.
A couple of friends and I though, have begun snail-mailing on a regular basis. Every few weeks when I write or receive a letter from England or Korea it brings not only excitement and (often) laughter when reading, but the feeling that the world is accessible and small, which sounds strange as the internet has proved this one thousand times more than snail mail has, yet despite the 5-7 days to England and the 10 days to Korea, the postal service still appears impressive in today's global society.
Today, Korea's arrived.
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