When I’m driving, I listen to podcasts. No matter their topic, almost all advertise “an-internet-based-postal-service-I-cannot-name” (hereafter “postage.org”). The podcast hosts bemoan post office parking, standing in line, and lengthy waits. Then the host notes postage.org remedies these hassles.
This was news to me. I kind of enjoy visiting my dilapidated post office. Finding a parking space close by exercises my creativity. Standing in line gives me time to daydream. Cracking the clerks’ grumpy veneers is a challenge. Still, I think these podcast hosts know some stuff. I wondered if my lack of post office dread and disdain was a personal flaw. Thus, I signed up for postage.org.
The starter kit included coupons, cords, a scale, and instructions for setting up and using my account. I’ve got no doubt you would have had postage.org set up in a hot minute. Not so much for me. My one and only password didn’t have the required combination of letters, symbols, and numbers. I was supposed to download something through an updated version of a program I didn’t know was outdated. The coupon codes wouldn’t cut and paste correctly. It just seemed like a lot of complexity pretending to be simple.
I went to the post office and returned all the postage.org stuff to its sender. While there I (unsuccessfully) chatted up the counter clerk and took my time choosing stamps. Heading out for the mile walk to my car, I smiled at the irked customer behind me. I wondered if he could recognize the message in his fierce annoyance with me: We deserve time and space to make choices. What a gift for the both of us. If not, there’s always postage.org.