So..What's in Your Mail Box?

I've been home sick for a few days with a "summer cold", as my mother used to say. My legs feel like lead tree-trunks and my head feels like a bouncing balloon ready to explode. My scalp hurts, I've completely lost my sense of smell, and my hearing wavers from one ear to the other; opening and closing like solid oak doors. I've tried laying down, but if I lay on my left side, I can only breathe through my right nostril; likewise, if I lay on my right side, only my left nostril opens up. Laying on my back offers me a double whammy in that both nostrils close up and I have to breathe through my mouth. Go figure. Having used up all my Kleenex, I've resorted to using my t-shirt as a hankie. Don't say "ewwww"...I know you've done the same thing yourself. I may just become a fan of hankies after this illness passes. Tissues are so fickle, whereas I can now see monogrammed hankies have more nose-appeal.

I decided to make chicken soup in hopes that the Jewish Penicillin would help bring me out of my misery. I smashed 10 cloves of garlic and chopped an entire Vidalia onion and could smell neither. When the soup came to a boil, I used my imagination to muster up the memory of its rich aroma, and frankly, when I tasted it, I couldn't tell if there was one clove or 10 cloves of garlic in it. Obviously, my taste buds are vacationing with my sniffer. With Felix at my heels, I paced from my bedroom to my office and back, each time adjusting my thermostat to accommodate my temperature, and since I've taken my temperature about 19 times today, the air conditioner must feel like its owner is bi-polar (no pun intended). Felix flexes his ears straight back as he has no idea what to think when I sneeze horrifically loud, but he is a great foot-warmer and a loyal companion.

Having run out of websites to chase link-after-link, and adding unnecessary plastic and electronic objects to my multitudes of wish lists, I decided to make my weekly visit to my mail box. For some reason, collecting my mail everyday has never been important to me, except for when it's my birthday or when I'm expecting something important, like money. This has been my habit for decades: to retrieve it maybe once a week when it occurred to me, or when I think I've annoyed the postal carrier long enough. I did this in college, too, where the kind folks in the mail room would have stored my mail in a box on the floor and then send me nasty-grams via the Resident Assistant pleading with me to either collect the week-old cookies my Nana had sent me or they'd enjoy the biscotti treats themselves. When I lived in an apartment, I did the same thing. You'd think visiting the mail kiosk would be a social event, but to me, it was just another chore on my mental list to be scratched off. Now that I have my very own mail box in my front yard, I still ignore it. At the college where I teach, I get email reminding me to collect my "very important" mail from my box as it's overflowing. And at work, I have several mail boxes, which get my attention about once a week as well. I much prefer electronic mail. I'd never think of letting my email box overflow.

Now I know why I only go once a week. Today, I collected a coupon for free Gas-X tablets, an AARP magazine and anti-aging soap and eye-cream samples from Dove. Those three combined offered me the best medicine money can't buy: Laughter. There I stood curb-side, bra-less, in my snot-covered t-shirt, in bedroom slippers akin to the kind old ladies wear while shuffling around K-Mart, laughing my stuffy head off.

So, what's in your mail box?