Confession: I've got this thing for boxes. Particularly the kind sent to me. In the mail.
Just holding that scuffed-up block of cardboard makes me giddy with the whole potential of it, the what-could-be-inside-the-box of it.
The funny thing is, it doesn't matter so much what I actually discover inside. Although, now that I think of it, there are quite a few things I wouldn't want to find there. A pickle for example. Don't mail me a pickle in a box. (Okay, unless they're of the dill variety and still cold and fresh and crunchy, in which case you'd better send more than one.)
So lately I've upped my box-giddiness to a whole new level. I'll let you in on a little secret (because if you've read this far into a post about boxes, for goodness' sake, you deserve some inside information). If you live in the US, just take a short visit to USPS.com. With a few quick clicks, I can--completely free of charge--send a box to myself.
Yes I know, and it gets better: when that box comes and I open it, the box-love multiplies tenfold because it is--drumroll--crammed full of boxes! Oh my, I could almost self-combust on the spot.
Now be warned, you do actually have to use these boxes for mailing stuff. You can't set them about the house to hold potted plants or dispense napkins. Which is the brilliant thing about running a small home business: one never runs out of weekly Things To Mail. So one gets to mail boxes full of boxes to herself repeatedly. Oh, the cycle of joy.
And if you don't live in the US...well, nevermind the whole Land Of Opportunity thing we supposedly have going on over here, just come for the box-love. So unbelievably worth it.
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