I have spent a lot of my life waiting for good news in the mail.
At a young age, I started sending out my poetry to newspapers and magazines to be considered for publication. Each poem was carefully hand-printed and mailed in a long white business-size envelope with a stamped self-addressed envelope, (SASE) enclosed so the material and response could be returned.
I printed copies of each submission so I could keep track of what I sent and what was accepted. The latter was small enough that I could have kept it in my head but I had big ideas.
When I received a typewriter for my 16th birthday, I happily transitioned into typed submissions with carbon copies. After washing off the whiteout and carbon ink, I would proudly pop my now professional-looking work in an envelope with an SASE and kiss the stamp for good luck.
When the Internet entered my life, it gave me the opportunity to be rejected so much faster.
The possibility of accolades, arriving in my mailbox still intrigues me. So imagine my surprise when I received props in the mail without knowingly having entered anything.
According to the Department of Water and Power, I am in the top tier of water savers in my neighborhood. They even sent me a little chart showing where I was versus other people in my size house. Now, of course, I am both delighted and panicked. Just like when I got an acceptance letter for my writing, I wondered if I would be able to do it again.
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Since I’m not really sure how I used less water than others this past quarter, I am worried that I won’t be able to repeat my success. Less laundry? Fewer showers? Fewer flushes? I feel like I would go to drastic measures to keep this status. I don’t want the stress of a straight-A report card followed by one with all Ds.
I am pondering this as I leave my computer screen for the front porch swing bathed in 6 p.m. sunshine, a gift from the first evening of daylight saving time. I can still walk before dark cloaks the day.
Soon, I am dancing into the dusk, saving water and savoring light.
And although it won’t arrive in an envelope, the first day of spring is only a whisper away.
Email [email protected]. Follow her on X @patriciabunin and patriciabunin.com.