I am lazy and apathetic about many things. I put off the simplest of chores and am often caught without anything to write on. I’m a writer. I’ll have eight or nine pens in my bag (I don’t have a pen that I use all the time. I haven’t found a pen I’ve wanted to commit to just yet.), but not a single sheet of paper or a notecard.

But I always have stamps. You can count on it. When I get down to two or three stamps I make a special stop at the post office and by a new pack from the machine. It’s cost under eight dollars. But it makes me feel responsible and prepared and ready to mail anything. I even buy the one cent stamps for odd sized letters or postcards.

I don’t even do that much mailing. A packet of stamps lasts six months or longer. But I love having them, keeping them in that same pocket, always knowing that they are there when I start to address that envelope.

I don’t think I would ever collect stamps, but I do enjoy them. I very much liked it when you had to lick them. I never thought it tasted bad. Only when you licked in bulk did it get kinda nasty. I liked the perforation, it was like a tiny little frame. I would always try to line it up just right. The sticky ones are too easy. But I do like peeling them off of their super-slick backing. They are quality stickers that, for some reason, are pleasing to adhere to an envelope.

I always liked getting the mail when I was younger, before the bills and student loan letters. I would wait for it inside the house, peeking out the window through the curtains. And it wasn’t like I ever got anything. On a rare occasion something would have my name tacked onto it. I think I just liked the consistency of the mailman. When the mailman came it was a confirmation of sorts. Of what I’m still not sure.

I just mailed off two bills. Filled out the change of address box with a rollerball pen that bleeds just a bit too much for my taste. Still I found satisfaction in sliding the torn portion of the bill snugly into the provided envelope with see-thru window. And pulling out my stamp pack, finding it there where I knew it would be. For 74 cents I get a little thrill. The mail kicks ass.