It is with some trepidation that I unlock the front door each evening when I return home from work. My front door is made of frosted glass, so its quite possible to see through it the envelopes that are littered on the doormat in the corridor behind the door even before the door is open. Although I live in a flat, I have my own front door with direct access to the street, so obviously any post or mail on the doormat is for me and nobody else. In the mornings, I leave home before the postman arrives to deliver the post. So he drops the envelopes through the letterbox and I only get to see them when I return in the evening.
Nobody writes letters nowadays. Everything is done electronically, by email and text and so forth. The only things I receive in the post are bills, more bills and reminders of as yet unpaid bills. Even my bank manager contacts me by email and I can carry out most of my transactions and even check my bank balance online, and print out a statement anytime I wish. Tearing open the envelopes containing the bills as I arrive at home usually sets the mood for the evening. I am yet to meet anyone who smiles when he or she receives a bill in the post.
Anyway, I've been smiling quite a bit lately. Postal workers have been on strike and I'm loving every minute of it. Imagine, I arrived at home today and there was not a single envelope on my doormat. To be delighted on arrival at home in the evening is a feeling that has eluded me for a long time. I don't want that strike to be called off please, even though I know I'm living on borrowed time. Its only a matter of time before those bills come flooding in again, and this time there will be a backlog too. So let me enjoy it while it lasts, lol.