These Things Do Happen
In the short week that I've been living here, I've received a ton of mail that isn't mine. It's all addressed to my apartment of course, and such things are common when you move around.
By Wednesday morning, I was tired of having to write "Return to Sender" on other people's mail. I took the old name off the box (which had completely faded out anyway) and put mine up. The new label is hard to miss and very legible. It's laser printed, laminated and taped up there securely. (And yes, I know I'm slightly OCD. Why do you ask?)
When I got home Wednesday evening, all the mail in my box was addressed to me in Apartment B, though I noticed that there was some mail in the box for Apartment C. I thought this was slightly weird since there hadn't ever been mail in that box before, but I didn't think much of it.
By Thursday afternoon, someone had moved the contents of Apartment C's box into mine. Miffed, I put a note up on my mailbox this morning. It read:
The following people
DO NOT LIVE IN APT B:
Patricia Woodward
Robert Czwartacky
Please stop putting their
mail in my box. Thank you.
When I got home from school today, I found mail addressed to Vicki, Kirk, and John.
On another note, sawicki left on Sunday, school started on Monday, and I am feeling a bit overwhelmed.