That Envelope

There are good envelopes.  There are bad envelopes.  I don't know about you, but I prefer the good ones.  Sadly, those are few and far between. No one writes a letter anymore.  A letter from a friend?  That's a good envelope.  I haven't received a letter from a friend since they invented email. Every now and then, a nice card arrives. Happy Birthday!  Happy Tu Bishvat!  Those are good envelopes.  On very rare occasions, there's an envelope with money.  Maybe a residual for that one episode of "Who's The Boss?" I wrote.  Back in the '90s, yet.  That, too, is a good envelope.  Mainly, I get envelopes asking for money. Which brings us to the bad envelopes. The bills, bills and more bills. Those envelopes, we expect.  I'm not kvetching about those envelopes. I'm kvetching about this one in particular, the one I dread the most, the one that arrived yesterday and sent me into an epic hissy-fit: