(no news is good news)
I can safely add mail-based incompetence to the ever-growing list of ways in which I’m categorically failing to be an adult. I’ve had letters sit on my desk unopened for literally months, packages uncollected from my halls that results in staff members supposedly posting them to my room (but they probably threw them out), and emails about opportunities that I kinda ignore until the ‘one day to go’ notification pops up on my phone and I start scrambling around, trying to write a poem or a novel in like three hours.
The problem, at least as far as I can see it, is a similar one to going to bed at a reasonable time: it’s a functionally simple task to do, and we tend to associate difficulty with importance. As a result, we reckon that we can stay up for another hour, because sleeping is easy, or we can not collect our mail today, because it takes five minutes and I’m sure I’ll have five minutes’ worth of time tomorrow to do it!
And then you miss an annual hospital appointment, and face the daunting choice of risking your physical health by waiting for next year’s, or ruining your mental health by plunging down the bureaucratic rabbit hole that is trying to reschedule a doctor’s appointment.
Obviously, the solution is to open my damn mail, which is one of few things that is genuinely easier said than done: it’s not easier said than done to, say, learn to cook, because both committing to and actually doing it are nigh-on impossible. But I’ll make an effort at least; at the moment the goal is to not let unopened mail pile up for more than a week.
Baby steps, James, baby steps.