My mailbox: closed for business

Maybe it’s because I’m getting old.

But some things just get under my skin.

Like the mail.

Thanks to the Internet, I don’t get much mail anymore. Most of my bills arrive over email. Ditto for my bank statements.

But the stuff that does land in my mailbox is absolutely infuriating.

Like the reminder to renew my Canadian Living subscription. I opted to have my CL delivered to me to save money, but now I’m regretting it. The month after I took out my subscription, I was sent a reminder that it was time to renew.

I’ve gotten a reminder notice every month ever since.

I tried to call but got no answer.  There was no button to press to complain.

I’m so steamed, I’m going to cancel my subscription.

If I could find someone to answer the damned phone.

I’m also getting love letters from Bell Canada.

I cancelled Bell Canada when I moved, then they stuck me with a $100 cancellation fee. When I refused to pay, I got threatening phone calls on my new Rogers phone.

Now I get pleading letters, bouquets really, trying to coax me back into their evil empire.

The other day, a Bell guy came to the door and asked me to return the receiver for my satellite dish.

I don’t have a satellite dish.

He refused to believe me.

Do you think I’ll get a Bell dish?

Nuh-uh. Never evah.

No wonder Bellmedia spends so much on mental illness.

They drive everybody nuts that’s why.

The only mail I get now — other than from Bell or Canadian Living — is from the revenuers.

Telling me that I don’t qualify for any of their bloody tax credits.

I don’t want warnings, notices or bills.

I want cheques, the pretty brown ones with Government of Canada on them.


Not happening.

I’m thinking of putting a sign on my mailbox: Closed for business.


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