'Almost' Mail

There is a very large pile of mail on my kitchen counter. It is large enough that it pretty much obscures the counter, most of the sink, and part of the cabinet above it. I’m not exactly sure what’s under it. I seem to recall buying bananas two-odd months ago, they may still be there, somewhere. They may have actually merged with the mail, creating some sort of bizarre banana-message hybrid.

This would be pretty sweet. You get a banana, unpeel it to reveal the letter, and then eat it. It would be informative and nutritious! I will dub it the ‘Bananagram.’

You see, the kitchen counter is where I toss all my ‘almost’ mail. This is mail that isn’t junk and thus cannot be thrown away, but it isn’t quite important enough to actually peruse, like a bill or a new Victoria’s Secret catalog.

NOTE: Yes, I get Victoria’s Secret catalogs. A female friend thinks it’s funny to sign her male friends up for them. I complain occasionally, just so she keeps doing it.

So, I put the ‘almost’ mail on the counter, with full intention of reading it when I have more leisure time (ha!). Predictably, I never actually read the mail on the counter. I just continue to throw new stuff on top. Occasionally, say once a year, the mail either reaches critical mass and cascades onto the floor in an avalanche of letters or I actually want to cook something and need to counter, in which case the mail gets thrown away.

Yet, I feel guilty about it. I really, really did intend to read it one day, but sadly, never got around to it. It seems like there should somehow be a metaphor about life in there somewhere. Something about never finding the time to do what needs to be done.

Actually, forget the metaphor. Someone needs to write a country song about it.

Unopened mail
Just sittin’ by my sink.

Smells like bananas,
Man, I need a drink.

There’s bills an’ letters
An’ women in thongs.

My ‘almost’ pile o’ mail,
Why can’t we get along?

Something, something, something.

Cheers,
-Jason