In Which I Hate The Postal Service

In moving out of my dorm room, H and I packed up and mailed 3 boxes of my things- two to his address, and one, of books, to my parents' address. The former two boxes have arrived, safe and sound. The last box just arrived- totally empty. Or rather- it still contained two of my papers, and had been refilled with crumpled brown paper. I don't know what someone wanted with a couple volumes of poetry, several books pertaining to Jewish education (this year's free Behrman House books, from their annual visit to JTS), last summer's sermon notes, and my class notes and papers from the semester. But they now have them, and I don't.

I am pretty pissed off, since if the books and papers had just fallen out naturally, the box wouldn't be re-stuffed with paper, I presume.

So I've called the post office and filed a complaint/a case. They've promised me a call back within 2 business days. I don't know what that will do, but maybe it'll provide me with some idea of what happened, and whether or not it's safe to mail packages...