The Art of Returning Unwanted Amazon Packages

Really, how do these companies make money? I mean if you return a bushel full of items per day and somehow don't have to pay the shipping costs, either way, how can these beleaguered enterprises afford to remain in business?

It is an addiction, this not really shopping shopping. I live in an apartment building where everyday, midday, looks like Christmas without the Christmas tree or Santa hanging around. The lobby overflowing with packages to be sorted through, notifications to be sent to the intended recipients, items retrieved, then returned to sender. A game of 50 First Dates played out each and every day of the year. Like the gift that keeps on not giving.

They must be a generous lot, those merchants. Happy just to keep us doing what we do best, rejecting their entreaties. Oh we may retain one or two, maybe three at the most, of the same shirt in kind of, well actually, the same color. And the 32 waist pants that don't really fit anymore since I gave up my New Year's resolutions by lunch on January first, could look pretty damn good if I suck in my stomach, give up sweets for 24 hours and take a diuretic for maybe a week or so.

Remember when you didn't spend 10 hours a week looking online for stuff you don't need but absolutely have to have? Remember what it was like when you used to venture outdoors? Remember spring and summer?

Oh sure I am exaggerating. You did take a break from shopping to go shopping once. You know, for that item that was reported out of stock but you knew where you could go to get it. But then decided you didn't like it when you actually saw it

This is not healthy for any of us. There should be a regulation prohibiting us from getting any joy out of seeing those boxes arriving at our doorstep, any pleasure from rifling through the wrapping paper to find the treat at the bottom, like the ones we used to get in those Cracker Jack boxes.

Maybe we could have a one day a year moratorium on this 365 day onslaught. One day where nothing arrives. Where the lobby of my building stands naked, the way it was intended when it was formed out of the molten lava of the earth. One day when time stood still because we had absolutely nothing to look forward to. One day when our pills were not rushing to cure what ails us, our 24 bottles of still water still.

One day when God rested. And by God I mean Jeff Bezos.

But you will have to excuse me, I just received a notification. I am headed to the lobby. Christmas once more.