Baker is kind of a big deal.

When I went to go down to the lobby to check my mail*, I put on my outfit for the day. I unfolded my jeans and put my one leg through the corresponding hole and then proceeded with the next leg then worked my jeans over my butt, zipped the zipper, and buttoned them right up. But that’s not how I do it everyday. Sometime I sit on my bed and scrunch my pants down and set them on the floor. I put my feet through the holes and slide those suckers up both legs being covered in dark denim and maybe I would button the button first instead of zipping the zipper. Then putting on the cute top that I picked out for the day I would normally put one arm in the sleeve first and then work in the other arm, while simultaneously trying to work my head through the large hole that is just big enough to fit my head, but not big enough to avoid messing up my hair. So then I had to go and fix my hair again which delayed my trip to get my mail. I didn’t actually know if I had mail, but my aunt said she had something to send me and would send it this week. So, the entire week I went down the to my mailbox and reached up to hopefully find a blue stub that says “Take this to the front desk.” It was like opening a chocolate bar and find the golden ticket. There it was; the blue ticket that said my name. I took it to the front desk. I showed my ID, signed the book, and beamed at my glowing brown package.

* Mail can be the highlight of a college students day. Why this is, I can’t really be sure. I rarely received packages before I went to college, and if I got one I wasn’t overly excited about it. Snail-mail becomes away of staying connected with the outside world in a concrete way. Email, cellphone, the interenet. These things are all great in convienent, but there is something so impersonal about these electronic devices. I need to hold a piece of paper in my hand and see the ink that came from the pen that was in my generous senders hand that is controlled by the beautiful mind of the sender. Cardboard boxes with the dull brown flaps taped tight with care. The contents of these packages is not important. Just walking the lobby and the ride up the elevator with everyone looking at you in envy is treat enough. The inner smile that you feel knowing that everyone around you wishes they had a box to flaunt around because it means that someone was thinking about you and thoughtful enough to send you a package. Whether the content is food, clothes, supplies or decorations for the dorm room no one really cares. When I got my first package here I tried not to flaunt it. I didn't want people to think I was a girl carrying a package that thought she was better than everyone else. I was just a girl who happened to come across some good fortune upon opening the metal door of my mail box.