I heart you

There is a package in my mail box.  Of course though, it's Sunday and the mail has decided to be unavailable.  So I'm staring at this white piece of paper exclaiming that I have received a package from Ballwin, Missouri and I am unable to retrieve it.  

I always excited when I got mail: a card from a friend, a post-it note form my RA, even the memo's from student senate are nice.  But a package puts them all to shame.  I know that you can't put a price on love, but if you could it would be $8.10.  That's how much it usually costs for a package to be sent from home to here.  This package represents the fact that I am missed and that I am loved even when I am so far away.  So I love this package and the little white slip that exclaims I have one.  

But of course back to the main point, I can't get to it.  It seems like today I will be focusing on being patient, the fruit of the spirit I have trouble with the most.  I can never be patient enough.  I prefer when things are done immediately, so Sunday is going to be especially long today.  I'll have to wait till the mail room opens to receive the package that will have words and pictures drawn across the outside, to open the box that will have candy and Valentines day stickers, and to read the card that will end with "I heart you" from my family.  But I can be patient.  I can wait.  I can hold out.

Does anyone know how to pick a lock?