started my day out the old-fashioned way today, the way i once started every day out: i wrote 3 notes then walked to the mailbox to mail them. just brief little handwritten notes. emails would’ve been quicker and taken less time, but there’s just something about pen meeting paper.

one of the notes made me feel a bit on the uncertain side of things as it’s about the third note i’ve sent this friend. always telling her how i noticed something she did and how marvelous i think it is, whatever she did or said. but after a while i wonder if she’ll think me odd in the worst sort of way.

oh well.

when my chiclets were babies, i’d get up early to pen the 3 notes before they woke up, and during the winter when it was just too much trouble to bundle 2 babies up to go out in the cold, i’d sometimes lose contact with adult types and run out of people to write. when that happened, i’d go to the local newspaper and send a note to somebody i read about there. kinda’ felt like a stalker, but i went right ahead and sent it with the clearest of intentions and hoped it would bubble-up a smile on the recipient.

though i’d sometimes hear that the person on the other end of the mailbox enjoyed and appreciated the surprise note, it’s amazing how much it didn’t matter because it was so satisfying just penning and sending the note. in fact, i’d often forget who i’d sent notes to, and i often wondered if that was good or bad. did it mean that i was able to let go of any expected or desired outcome or did it mean i had early onset alzheimers.

i don’t know/can’t explain it, but starting my days this way makes me feel like i have control over my day.

probably a mere illusion, but it’s nice, nevertheless.