Mail

It's been quite a few months now since I decided I have almost no use for anything that comes to my post box via snail mail. Hence, I have a very hard time working up any enthusiasm for seeing what it contains.

Ninety per cent of what is crammed in by the postal carrier is junk. Circulars, free newspapers, offers for credit cards, postcards from my local real estate agents, etc. This crap goes right into the trash.

Then there are the inevitable bills, but since I pay most of my bills on line, this becomes less of an issue as time passes.

Once in a while, like at Christmas, people send cards. These are nice to receive and contain a personal touch that prompts me to keep them around for a while.

I used to enjoy getting catalogs especially from stores I like, but now they come too fast and furiously and there is no way I can devote to them the time and attention they require.

Yesterday's mail box offerings were particularly depressing. There were two letters from the IRS and one from my local tax assessor.

One of the IRS letters revealed that they in fact owe me money. To be precise: they owe me four cents.

Someone took the time to write me that letter, stuff the envelope, and send it off to me. Even if we just count the postage cost (thirty seven cents at the time), it cost them far more to tell me about it than had they just thrown four pennies in an envelope and sent it to me.

They will be happy to send me the four cents but I have to request it in writing.

I think I will let the IRS keep my four cents. Not just because I'm a sap for bureaucracies, but because it would cost me thirty nine cents to ask for it.