Richard Simmons exercising with cats
✨ sparkle with me ✨
iHannah has been hosting a handmade postcard swap for ages and since I have so much extra time on my hands these days (ha!) I decided to join. Mail art makes lots of people happy as it travels from your art desk to the recipient - the mail clerk who accepts it, the people who sort it, the robots that scan it, the mail carrier, etc. And it’s fun to open your mailbox to find something other than grocery store circulars.
According to the U.S. Postal Service, my address doesn’t exist. When I moved here a year ago and put in the forwarding order, my mail just…stopped arriving. It wasn’t going to my old address. It wasn’t being held at my old post office. It wasn’t sitting at my new post office. It was lost in mail purgatory somewhere, nobody has ever been able to explain why.
My old post office said they couldn’t help me, I needed to call my new post office. My new post office said I needed to call the regional office. I’ve visited, in person, five separate post offices, all of whom told me they would speak to their manager about it and get back to me. (They did not.) The regional office told me I needed to call DC and also send an email to a super secret email address that I’m about to put on blast because this is so ridiculous.
I recently tried to sign up for a subscription service and they couldn’t figure out how to make their system accept my address. When I type my address into any form that uses USPS information to verify the address, I’m told my address doesn’t exist.
I live here! The house number is on the post outside my door! It’s on my lease!
I’ve talked to my mail carrier, a guy I’ve known for years - I used to work up the street - and he’s just as perplexed. Mail addressed to my address does come here, I just can’t make anyone believe that.
I’ve given up and choose to accept that there are some people who will never have my new (now old, it’s been a year!) address.
ANYWAY
Here are some more postcards featuring Richard Simmons exercising with cats, because I suspect they will make you smile and we all need a doomscrolling break.
A question: am I the only one who attended a high school where Sweatin’ to the Oldies was part of the gym curriculum?
✨SPARKLE WITH ME and forward this to your friend who needs some nonsense in their life ✨
