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Remembering the Missouri

You work the mail, they say, don’t let the mail work you. But that’s hard. As I walk along, day after day, 12-18 miles, depending on the mail, my mind drifts. That’s not good for a letter carrier. The job demands constant presence. When I begin to wander, I make mistakes, have to backtrack, and lose time.

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Goofing off, that’s my favorite

When some people get a day off from work, they do things like mow the grass, do house repairs, or get out to the lake with their boat. They go fishing, fly kites, and walk their dogs. Activities with family and friends, even in this era of social distancing take their attention. But not me.

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On never being good enough

All my life, for no good reason at all, I’ve striven to “show them.” I wish I could tell you who they are. In my immature emotional sensitivity—a trait which I still possess—I’ve always sought to blame someone for my problems. There must be a source of doubt, derision, and discouragement.

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