stamps

When I’m driving, I listen to podcasts.  No matter their topic, almost all advertise “an-internet-based-postal-service-I-cannot-name” (hereafter “postage.org”).  The podcast hosts bemoan post office parking, standing in line, and lengthy waits.  Then the host notes postage.org remedies these hassles.

This was news to me.  I kind of enjoy visiting my dilapidated post office.  Finding a parking space close by exercises my creativity.  Standing in line gives me time to daydream.  Cracking the clerks’ grumpy veneers is a challenge.   Still, I think these podcast hosts know some stuff.  I wondered if my lack of post office dread and disdain was a personal flaw.  Thus, I signed up for postage.org.

The starter kit included coupons, cords, a scale, and instructions for setting up and using my account.  I’ve got no doubt you would have had postage.org set up in a hot minute.  Not so much for me.  My one and only password didn’t have the required combination of letters, symbols, and numbers.  I was supposed to download something through an updated version of a program I didn’t know was outdated. The coupon codes wouldn’t cut and paste correctly.  It just seemed like a lot of complexity pretending to be simple.

I went to the post office and returned all the postage.org stuff to its sender.  While there I (unsuccessfully) chatted up the counter clerk and took my time choosing stamps.  Heading out for the mile walk to my car, I smiled at the irked customer behind me.  I wondered if he could recognize the message in his fierce annoyance with me:  We deserve time and space to make choices.   What a gift for the both of us.  If not, there’s always postage.org.