Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Stamp of Approval

I have discovered the secret of the difference between childhood and adulthood. The key is this – office supplies.

The main thing I take advantage of when I’m at home, aside from the free laundry, the meals, and the room and board and stuff, is office supplies. Growing up you never paid for your own staples or stamps or tape or paperclips or any of that stuff – at least I know that I didn’t. So that’s the great secret – office supplies. The more you’ve purchased the more of an adult you are.

Do you own envelopes? a stapler? scotch tape? packaging tape? stamps? paperclips? a stapler remover? 3X5 index cards? those little labels that say "sign here" and are shaped like arrows? post-it notes (in multiple colors)? white out?

I own a stapler, and not one of those weak, student model, plastic, holds only 5 staples, kind of staplers. It’s black, it’s metal, it’s hefty, it’s a Swingline, it’s perfection. I bought it at a thrift store, but it’s a stapler nonetheless. Why did I buy it? My family owns more than half a dozen staplers, but I personally did not own one. And it’s not just the stapler; it’s the fact that I bought a box of staples for it that truly demonstrates how responsible I am. 5000 staples in this box. It will take me a lifetime to use them all – even if I were to write 2, 763 more papers, hand out 105 more ward newsletters, and become some sort of activist that hands out bunches of stapled leaflets protesting the economic status of the Netherlands I would still have thousands of staples left. I bought them because they’re an investment - they’re something I know I’ll use (eventually).

I also own tape. It saddens me to buy tape. It saddens me more to use tape, because I know that using it means I’ll have to buy more. I don’t use paperclips, so I don’t buy them. But I pick them up whenever I see them on the ground. I don’t know why, because I don’t clip paper together with them, that’s for sure. I just unbend them before depositing them somewhere else.

Stamps: The final barrier between childhood and a life of paying taxes. I do not own stamps. If I needed a stamp growing up I went into my dad’s office and took one out of his desk drawer. I avoid things that require stamps. I don’t know what it is – there’s just something I reject about it. When anyone asks to borrow a stamp I say "no, nope, sorry, no stamps here."

I don’t know who mails in our electric bill each month.

Optimistic. and I got together mid-March to do our taxes. All I had to do was drop them in the mail and I had money with my name on it wending its way to my bank account. Only, I didn’t mail them -not until mid-April when they were almost due. Optimistic. found out I hadn’t mailed them and he took it upon himself to give me an envelope and a stamp. He gave the sealed envelope back to me, thought better of it, took it back, and went outside to mail it right then and there.

That said, I had a big first today. I needed a stamp. I had no stamp. M-Lite had no stamps. Optimistic.( my usual supplier) was at work. Crapdaggit. I went to the post office, shelled out 41 cents, and sold my soul for a self adhesive picture of an American flag. Goodbye childhood.

I wouldn’t have done it except I needed to mail a letter by today to a certain Elder of krebscout’s. It was a dang funny letter. He’d better appreciate my twisted sense of humor and the fact that my soul is now in a cash register up on campus somewhere. But in spite of my indignation I know as well as anybody that it had to happen some day-it was a dream to think I could avoid it forever. I just always thought it would never catch up to me, and spent my time wishing that this day (like most days) would stay in the distant future. Stupid future catching up with me.

5 comments:

H2 said...

you gave up your childhood to a stamp? why didn't you say so. I would've mailed you some stamps if it meant your childhood!
p.s i've never bought stamps before. our family's wierd.

LJ said...

I felt like I ended my childhood when I had to pay car insurance. Yeah, that was a kick in the head.

Eliza said...

uh, you may not like me after I tell you this, but I always have stamps...you could have asked me.

Eliza said...

by the way, my verification word was umudn. That's what I'm calling you now. You muddin!

Brooklyn said...

If we wanted stamps when I was growing up, we had to deposit the appropriate change in its place on Mom's desk. Hmph. :)

Then again, Mom also exacted tax from us when she picked something up for us at the store.