Look, wherever it is you live in America right now, it’s better here in LA. I’m sorry that I had to tell you that, but it’s just reality, so it’s best if you just accept it. Gravity keeps your feet stuck to the ground. Time seems to keep marching forward. Bush is ruining America. It’s better in LA than anywhere else in the country. These are all just facts.

Today it was 80 degrees F in LA. The sun was shining, the palm trees were swaying in a gentle breeze humming Beach Boys tunes, surfers strolled down the boulevards boards in hand, and bikini-clad women did jumping jacks along the 405.

In Washington D.C. it was 36 degrees, mostly cloudy, and Bush ate some homeless babies that he bought with your tax dollars.

You can’t argue with the evidence.

Unfortunately, instead of spending the morning surfing like I wanted to, I spent it touring the post office of Venice looking for my mail.

Was it at the post office where I had my mail forwarded to a PO box while my apartment was being worked on? No.
Was it at the other post office less than a mile away that was apparently the main station for my neighborhood? No.
Was it at the “carrier building” another fraction of a mile away where my mail is apparently sorted prior to delivery? Yes and no.

Well, actually no and no.

You see, I had cleverly put a temporary forward on my mail to the aforementioned PO box while my apartment was being ripped apart and rebuilt from the fire. I foolishly thought that 3 months would give Them plenty of time, and that my mail could simply revert back to my original address at that point. Little did I know that 3 months would barely scratch the surface of what I still contend is a f’ing 3 WEEK job.

So, my mail carrier, once given the go-ahead to start re-delivering my mail to my apartment, found it apparently abandoned and in shambles, and has had the last 3 weeks or so of my mail sent back to sender.

The more astute of you will immediately realize why this is more of a problem than usual. It has nothing to do with bills or anything; I’m composed of 85% internet, so I laugh at paper bills. Doing some quick higher math, however, you’ll realize that it is the beginning of February, and that 3 weeks before now means that I haven’t been gettin gmail from around the middle of January to the end. All of your (and my) tax stuff gets mailed and delivered in that time. All of that tax stuff that is not internet enabled, and mildly important, especially when you make as little as I do and are desperately hoping for the fat refund.

If I haven’t said so before, let me say so now: if given the opportunity, maybe don’t let your apartment burn down. It’s a major pain in the ass.