At least it's not bills

Pottery Barn’s annual yuletide attack on my mailbox has begun.
I’ve ordered maybe three things from them in my lifetime, but apparently that’s not enough. They want me to want more!
It’s not just Pottery Barn, though. It’s the stepchildren, PB Kids and PB Teen. Plus, Pottery Barn and all its kin are owned by Williams Sonoma, so if you let one of them in, you’re also inviting in the folks from Williams Sonoma, Hold Everything and the ultramodern West Elm home décor catalog. Each week leading up to Christmas, they visit my mailbox and overstay their welcome.
Our recent summery weather didn’t do much to put me in a fall magazine or catalog-shopping mood anyway. Sure, it’s cold now, but Southern Living’s “Celebrate Fall with our Blackberry Cobbler and Apple Dumplings” issue arrived on an 89-degree October day. On the way back from my mailbox last week, I glimpsed velvet curtains on Pottery Barn’s back cover and almost passed out on the steaming driveway.
I brought this catalog assault on myself, of course. I no longer believe the Internet is the work of the devil, and I have indulged in a bit of lazy (I prefer the term “efficient”) online Christmas shopping. Mail order companies now know me as “direct mail bait.”
Lots of companies bombard us with catalogs, but Pottery Barn and Lillian Vernon in particular seem to have it out for American postal carriers. Their catalog onslaught has the desperate air of the stalking high school boyfriend who would call you eight times before you left the house in the morning.
“Hi! It’s Pottery Barn again. Just wanted to be sure you saw our $40 pillar candles that will make your mantle look so elegant for Christmas, but only if you buy at least six of them because you don’t want your holiday mantle to look skimpy, do you? OK, well, see you tomorrow.”
As if I had room in my budget for $240 worth of candles.
I guess the catalog printers will survive the economic downturn, even if my mail carrier doesn't.