I may be a drama queen (it’s true, ask any friend), but I rarely use the word hate. I love our cats and I love cupcakes and I friggin’ love my ice hockey (holla to the Steel City), but I don’t hate much. So this, my friends, is serious.
Every day when I come home from work, I find our daily stack of mail on the kitchen counter, carefully tucked in one corner by the hubs. I hate piles. Other than the occasional glossy, rarely is it anything exciting (an out-of-the-norm colored envelope sends me into a tizzy – I love the good hand-written snail mail). And while I plead with him to (pretty) please shred the junk mail, stack the mags, and toss the bills in the office, he just… doesn’t.
Now, I love my man. (Maybe that should have been example one up there, eh?) But perhaps he can’t stand opening mail as much as I loathe to watch it pile up? You can find me every day at 6 pm attacking those stacks with a vengeance. Why, oh why, is this so hard for you, Sweetums? (Smooch.)
Help. How do you wrangle your mail? Are you an open-as-it-comes in household, or do you stash the (ahem) pile in a handy catch all? I’m kicking myself for not scooping up a sweet ceramic “in” box at the Vintage Bazaar, thinking I had no use for it. With all the hustle and bustle around me, it was simply a moment of panic that had me place it back on the vendor’s shelf. Ugh. Advice?