Mail rant

I got a catalogue from Restoration Hardware in the mail yesterday and all I can say is, Who the hell buys any of this stuff? It's (mostly - there was an alright-looking leather armchair) remarkably ugly, horrifyingly pretentious, and bloody expensive. I want to know what I did wrong that would make them decide to put me on their mailing list.

Also, I hate getting credit card offers, because I worry about identity theft. And I really loathe the ones that say 'Start building your credit!' because I know my credit score is low now, thanks to student loans - it should be low, I have debts well in excess of my income.

Also, I really really love the New Yorker for some simple reasons (it's excellent) and some complicated-but-nice ones (family stuff) and getting it is definitely one of the highlights of my week SO IT WOULD BE FUCKING FANTASTIC if the New Orleans postal system delivered it with any consistency. But that, evidently, would be too much to ask.

(This fit of ill temper brought to you by not enough exercise or productivity at work. It is so interesting, the extent to which how you feel about yourself affects how you feel about the world.)