the empty mailbox

It’s one of PHC’s favorite distractions. After Freedom’s or Western World class an observer can watch the daily ritual—the mail run. Somehow at home the mailbox loses its allure. In the two years you’ve been gone, the mail service seems to have forgotten about you. Except for the delightful influx of birthday cards and if you’re extraordinarily lucky a few letters from the longsuffering pen-pal who managed to remain faithful through the school year even when your sporadic replies invariably read: “Sorry I’ve taken forever to write. How are you? Well, there’s a paper due; more later.” Lately, however, my neighborhood mailman has become a subject of intense interest.

You look at the Spring academic calendar and read “June 5th—tentative date to mail grades”; June 5th was Tuesday . . . On June 6th the mailman comes and the mailman goes. A few bills, (I don’t mind that those aren’t addressed to me), an advertisement for a studying opportunity in some eastern European country, and no grades. June 7th is the same story only the mailman must have changed his route after 15 years because the mail’s coming 4 to 5 hours later than normal. June 8th, the mail is just as unpromising with not even a WORLD magazine to cheer the bleakness. And I live on the East Coast; mail from PHC arrives in one day!

I look up tentative in the thesaurus: “unconfirmed, indefinite, open to consideration.” Yes, that pretty much sums it up. Well, maybe tomorrow. Just another day and I’ll hold the grades in my hands, look at those decimal numbers, and . . .

Wait a second, maybe it’d be alright if the postal service took its time with that letter. ;)