Tired Fingers

This will be a very, very short post. I finally, FINALLY finished a letter, and my fingers are hurting. I love writing letters, and my penpals are very dear to me, but that doesn't keep my fingers and my hand from hurting after forgetting about myself an spending a few (some barely... seven hours?) absorbed my my pen and my stationary replying to their lovingly written words, with words of my own filled with honest feelings and thoughts. Letters that take days and days to be written, and then are neatly packed in envelopes carefully addressed and sent on their way.

I sent a letter today too, to my friend Roo in California. It amazed me how the lady at the Post Office stared at the envelope that clearly stated in English "UNITED STATES" and asked me "That's America?". As Costa Rican, the question upset me because, well, I'm American, just as I am European, HOWEVER if I call myself American, people would assume I'm from the United States. Like all other Americans-Not-From-The-United States, we've heard a lot of explanations to this, but the point is that, yes, I am American, and yes, the United States is IN America. From the general point of view... Lady, you enter the letter under the code of "US", what the FUCK do you think UNITED STATES is?

Tomorrow there's another trip to the Post Office in the agenda. I hope the clerk would be a little bit smarter and won't ask me where Belgium is.