I just ventured into the Towers mailroom to perform a mail check. Since September, this trip… I just ventured into the Towers mailroom to perform a mail check. Since September, this trip has become an integral part of my day. It always consists of the same routine: I walk through the left-side door, pausing to take in the distinctive smells of carbon paper, cardboard boxes and stale body odor. I then wander a bit, attempting to locate my mailbox in this overwhelming-yet-not-devoid-of-charm environment saturated with metal.

When I am feeling particularly adventurous, I experiment with different mailroom visitation times. On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, I usually pay my visit around 2 p.m., after my last class. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I head in, along with many of my peers, during the mailroom rush hour — lunchtime.

It’s remarkable to see just how many people can fit into such a narrow space, and I love the bustle of the mailroom’s activity and conversation during this time. After 10 p.m., the mailroom becomes one of the only quiet areas in the Towers, making it a good place to study, converse, make out, or even — why not? — fornicate.

Regardless of what time I visit the mailroom, my heart always fills with anticipation and beats a little bit faster when I finally locate my mailbox and crouch down to check out its contents for the day.

“What sort of fun might I find today?” I wonder. A PNC Bank statement reminding me how low my checking account balance always is? A pamphlet featuring the hours of my many on-campus dining options? Better yet — a package notification!

Yes, like any Pitt student, I hope and pray each morning to see that beloved pink slip in my mailbox to notify me that I “have received a package.”

Oh, how I yearn to be one of the elite — that kid who gets to part the traffic while promenading from the mailroom desk with an oversized box or envelope. My first package arrived during the first week of school. It came from my mom, and included a picture frame contrasting the character traits of Elmo from Sesame Street with those of Mr. “Emo,” Chris Carrabba from Dashboard Confessional

On a side note, I remember being glad that my first package arrived in one piece. At this point in time, I was unaware of the package delivery procedure within the Towers’ mailroom, and I naively figured that the mailroom employees would try to shove this oversized, 8×10 package into my cubbyhole.

Not to say that I favor packages or that I have a prejudice against plain correspondence — oh, no. Five or six more packages have sporadically trickled in for me this year, and while the thrill of their arrivals has remained as joyous to me as ever, I always treasure those days on which I reach into my mailbox and pull out a letter or a postcard. In fact, one of the best pieces of mail I have received so far was a long, gloriously unexpected letter that was sent to me by a friend in Tower A.

Mail of any sort (or lack thereof) can make (or break) a person’s day. This is why I love the mailroom. It does not discriminate.

Here, we can feel sorry for that trembling stranger who is pulling out a much-feared credit card statement. At the same time, we can feel joy for someone opening an early birthday card. So, if you love the energy of the mailroom as much as I do, I urge you to add to it by sending mail to your friends. Then, take a few minutes and go hang out in the mailroom among the mob of students who hope for packages but settle for letters. You won’t be disappointed, even if there’s nothing in your mailbox.

Claire Donato likes to receive random mail — even electronically. Send her some without even having to buy a stamp at [email protected].