Secret of Vintage Jewelry

Do you remember the Lucille Ball episode when she got a job in a candy factory and mistimed everything on the assembly line so that the chocolates ended up passing on the conveyor belt unwrapped or mummy-wrapped or in Lucy's mouth?
Well, last night I sent out a batch of poem to be (hopefully) snapped up by editors for publication. I used self-adhesive envelopes to keep a glueless tongue and facilitate the process.

The paper that covers the self-adhesive ended up curling on the carpet like marauding sea creatures or blanched snakes. I had stamps stuck to my toes and halfway through I discovered that I had a cover letter with an editor's name on it in an envelope addressed to a different journal. I had to peel open quite a number of envelopes to discover where the glitch was.

This morning, after I mailed them in the corner mailbox, I had a champagne-y sense of satisfaction at having gotten through it. I came home and turned on the news. Stamps had gone up 2 cents the day before. All those poems might be headed back to me!