There are some aspects of maturity that I’m still ironing out. And some aspects of immaturity I prefer to keep wrinkled.
Shakin’ it Like a Polaroid Picture (Dorm Room ’03)
But recently, I found that the possession of just one object makes me feel mature as shit.
Stamps.
Not just any stamps though. Mo fo Forever stamps.
I hear your objections already.
“But Jenny, you occasionally share your bed with a load of clean clothes. And then, you hang things up that are not ironed, forcing you to frequently implement the “As long as I sit down relatively quickly upon arriving to work, people will just think that sitting down made my clothes look wrinkled” strategy. And last weekend, you went to Denny’s twice in eight hours.”
Well, first things first. You never speak of Denny’s like that again. Those Grand Slams were delicious. Now, quiet down and listen to my tale of maturity.
A couple weeks ago, a friend needed me to mail something, so I said, “Sure, no problem at all. Puttin’ it in the mail as we speak!”
Then last week, piecing together his empty mail box and the over-allotted time for the mail to safely travel eight ZIP codes away, he inquired, “Hey, did you have a chance to put those cards in the mail?” To which I responded, “Oh shit! Completely forgot. Puttin’ it in the mail as we speak!”
And in the moments that followed, I completed a task that required the union of a couple very, very mature actions.
Namely, it required the foresight to know that while the price of stamps would continue to rise, my math skills would not rise in the proportion needed to one day piece together some crazy combination of 40 and 2 and 5. Or something.
This foresight led me to not only purchase Forever stamps, but to also place them in the little area in my wallet that some people reserve for dollar bills. And so, faced with a commitment to deliver via U.S.P.S., I calmly and maturely grabbed my wallet and pulled out one little token of eternally sticky goodness.
I smiled in content reflection and placed my proof of temporary adulthood mastery onto the upper right section of the envelope. Then I retrieved the recipient’s address from the 3rd email he had sent with it, and put it right in the mail.
Up next: Washing my car once per year.
*Okay, you waited long enough. Here’s your dessert.
I totally sympathize with the ironing. And the ironing out of maturity. And the maturity things that don’t get ironed on purpose cuz I’m making a fashion statement.
And also forgetting to post the mail. Definitely that too.
I admit I haven’t shared my bed with clean clothes for a while though. Maybe I’ll do that just to remember the feeling. Yeah I’m trying that tomorrow, the laundry isn’t clean yet.
Here is more information than you could possibly want to know about forever stamps as a long term investment:
http://danspira.com/2008/02/11/us-first-class-postage-rate-hike-investment-value-of-the-forever-stamp/
and here is a picture of a cat:
http://www.iacuc.arizona.edu/training/cats/index.html
Casey, that is pretty fantastic. Who needs blue chip stocks when you can just buy Forever stamps? A self-esteem booster and a sound investment. Yuck, cats! Still attempting to mingle with the men folk. I have about 8 months left according to my bell curve.
Charles, you should def. try it. I might be ahead of you. My laundry is now clean, but not dry. I do not recommend sharing your bed with wet laundry.
I refuse to buy stamps. I will set up bill pay with my bank just to pay a one time only bill. This is also because I refuse to write checks. LOL….Everytime there’s the possibility I may need to mail something or write a check for something, I get irrationally pissed.
You should get one of those little stamp machines. They are pretty sweet. Not sure how convenient they are for individuals, but we had one at my old job and I was pretty entertained by it. For hours.