A letter from SmithBarney saying they established a deposit account at Citibank, along with a Bank Deposit Disclosure Statement, written in legalese. I don't have an account at either SmithBarney or Citibank, and have no idea what this is. I do have some Citigroup stock. I would investigate it further, except the deposit amount is 24 cents.
Complicated-looking forms relating to a class action suit for people who purchased Bristol-Myers stock from 1999-2002. My Quicken records show I did buy 24 shares for my IRA during that period. I started filling out the form, but abandoned the effort when I saw I would need to copy the original brokerage statements, and to be completely accurate I'd have to account for an additional .121 share acquired in an erroneous dividend reinvestment. It's possible my share of the settlement will be more than 24 cents, but right now I can't deal with this.
A long (almost up to my neck), thin package from a golf supply store. I don't play golf. It turned out to be the umbrella I'd ordered through Amazon.com (why Amazon? I had a gift certificate). It's red and white, and opened OK when I tried it out inside (I know, bad luck). It came with a red slip-on cover that didn't fit once the umbrella was closed again. I kept it anyway, though wondered why an umbrella even needs a cover. This replaces the soon-to-be-seen-in-"Wordplay" blue and white umbrella that has seen better days.
A square envelope from Sandy, UT addressed in calligraphy. It looked like a wedding invitation, with an attached reply card. I didn't know any of the names and checked that it was really addressed to me. Wait a minute, this wedding is March 12, there's no location for the ceremony, there appear to be 3 brides and 1 groom...and it's "only on HBO." The card has a link to a website for the show "Big Love" which apparently is about polygamy. Well, that sounds just wacky.
(Not mail, but I don't want to do ANOTHER entry today) When I got back upstairs with the mail, the apartment seemed warm. Especially the kitchen. The stove was hot when I touched it. Was there a pilot light problem? Uh, no, it was just that the oven was on (350 degrees). I turned it off, and remembered that despite my tiredness I'd managed to stay up through the night until my FreshDirect order came around 6:45 a.m. (what was I THINKING asking for 6:30-8 delivery?), cooked some chicken cutlets from the order for "lunch," and proceeded to sleep all day. In my fatigue, I forgot to turn off the oven. Scary.