Saturday, August 03, 2019

I went to the post office to send my old college friend Magali something in Texas. Along with what I wanted to mail her, I had brought along some blank note cards with me so I could include a short message with her stuff. I was planning to buy an envelope for the packaging there at the post office and then quickly write her a message before getting in line to pay for everything. But then as I stood there at a side counter with a pen in hand (my own of course and not one of those chained down), and began to write "Dear Magali," I realized how novel it felt to have this contraption within my grips. It was like my hand didn't know what to do. I ripped up my first attempt because I hated how the handwriting of those two words came out, and then the same happened for the second attempt. My third attempt got me a little farther with a couple of more sentences, but I abruptly stopped soon after while thinking I just can't do this. I ended up sending her the stuff without a message or note at all, which felt weird but also okay for 2019.

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