Takeout Menu

I get only two sorts of mail at my apartment (this is by choice). I only get exciting packages from my parents or from Anne, or takeout menus.

The sad thing is, I find both exciting.

The packages are of course more thrilling but there is something about having my own takeout menu in my own mailbox which gives me this warm sense of satisfaction. Something about coming to my mailbox after work in my own lobby and seriously considering said takeout menu as I open my own apartment door to my own apartment, which I love, makes me rather wonderfully content. Drugstores no longer give me the same buzz anymore, which is a little sad in itself (they use to remind me, bizarrely, of the strange adventure I was on) but they seem to have been replaced by takeout menus. In my mailbox. And on my fridge in my apartment.

I don't get to use them that often- money is too tight really (he says as he is about to book Easter in Chicago). But I've found that Sunday pizza from MOVERS is surprisingly sensational and I love their pizza and they don't have a delivery fee and I discovered it because of junk mail in my letter box.

So in conclusion- take out menus are both satisfying and useful.