Playing Postman

Everyday there is mail in my mailbox at home. Most I recognize as junk mail. I think. But I’m a little paranoid. What if I throw away something important? So every week I have a ritual. I sort all my mail into piles. That which I think is junk mail, that which I’m not sure, and that which has my name on it (in Korean – not many of these). Then I take the piles to school with me and ask Little Kim to review them. Are these important? Can I throw these away? Up until now, he’s taken the bills out (I get a phone bill and a utility bill) and thrown everything else out. Today, however, he handed the bills back to me. What? What should I do with these? “Pay them.” How? (I don’t have a checking account here.) “Miss Rori.” Yes? “Take them to post office. Or bank.” Okay. Then what? “Pay them.” At the post office? Him, getting exasperated, “Yes.” As if I was supposed to know this.

So I went to the post office. I saw the digital number system, but I didn’t see the ticket dispenser. I looked and looked. I walked up to the counter where there was no line. The clerk said, from what I understood, take a number. “Odi?” Where? She pointed. I am such a dork. The number taker was right beside me. I took a number and started to sit down. She called to me. My number was up. Why did she just make me take a number when there was no one in line? Life tires me sometimes.

But I did pay my bills. I will continue to have electricity and phone service for at least another month.