The Leticia in Me

Dear Millicent,

I have not received a drop of mail in days, but somebody named Leticia has.  Every day, we get mail for Leticia.  This just started two weeks ago, so I am starting to wonder if Leticia moved in without us knowing? Every day, I write “Please Forward” and have noticed that my handwriting is getting more and more aggressive.  Today I added the note “DOES NOT LIVE HERE,” and then I wondered how the good postwoman, every day, takes the letter to be forwarded, and immediately puts a fresh piece of Leticia mail in the box.

Should I perhaps see if Leticia, the post office, or some other force that has chosen a method of bureaucracy as their conduit,is trying to tell me something?  Is Leticia the new me– –perhaps the perkier, more productive me that vacuums and doesn’t spend hours sitting in the middle of the floor sighing?

The problem with Leticia is I’m not sure she is all good…the name recommends a Lady Macbeth quality to me, but in a sitcom.  Leticia might own the interior decorating firm across the street from Designing Women, and steal their clients by offering free sweet tea.  Leticia might be the kind of neighbor that lives above you and clacks around in her high heels all day, but then asks you to turn your music down at 10:02 on a Friday night (let’s say you were playing the soundtrack to South Pacific and up to your wrists in glitter Modge Podge).  Leticia might even write down a fake address at the doctor’s office and make all the bills disappear into a stranger’s mailbox.

Maybe I’ll get a letter tomorrow from Leticia for Leticia.  What then? I guess I go put on my high heels.

Yours,

CF