A Small Brown Package

I'm staring at a small brown package, maybe 12" x 9" x 1".

It's messily labeled, something that's always bothered me about packaging. Of course, you can't expect care to go into the arbitrary when there's money to be made. That, to me, is unfortunate. I'm not going to go into a tangent about the economy, but believe me when I say that I could.

The USPS label covers up a word, leaving only "amaz," a fragment of Amazon. A smaller yellow label bears a postage verification along with my zipcode. Altogether, there are four barcodes - three on labels, one on the actual packaging.

Red marker says "Christmas gift - don't open me" in my roommate's handwriting. But the package is not from my roommate. It's from somebody else.

The back of the package is much more pleasing to the eye. On it are simply the Amazon logo (which I just now realized is not an eyeless smile, but an arrow) and three small triangular arrows before "PULL TAB TO OPEN." I'd like to open it, but that's not in the spirit of the holiday.

Of course, part of me says "open it anyway. You create your own spirit." And I'm a hair's breadth from complying. It could be simple curiosity. It could be elation. It could be out of a misguided attempt to silence my own imagination.

It could be because this gift is from one of the most important people in my life.

I reeeeeeeally want to open it.