At the moment, I’m not psychologically prepared to write about back-to-school shopping.

You’ll never find a bigger fan of fall than Bag Lady, with its vibrant oranges and reds, its fuzzy dew, its crisp morning temps and the return of three-quarter-length sleeves.

But summer just. Got. Here. And I’m not quite ready for it to end, just yet.

So this week, I am instead prepared to write about the “Beverly Hills, 90210” reboot. And delicious discount bread. And, fine, school markers, but only because it involves a harrowing, still-unfolding, mail-related tale.

A harrowing, still-unfolding, mail-related tale

Those wily proprietors of a store we’ll call Maples recently sent Bag Lady a coupon that could not be resisted: Spend $60, save $30 — a delightful offer any day of the week. To put myself over the $60 edge, I included a $3 pack of Crayola markers.

TWICE this 10-pack has shipped in a box that’s roughly 100 times too big, and TWICE, said box large enough to fit the Ark of the Covenant has arrived with a seam gaping open and the markers gone, presumably fallen out.

The second time, during the re-ship, it was the ONLY item in the box. Or the only item intended to be in the box. Upon arrival, as it were, it was among an infinite number of items that were not inside. (Also not in the empty box: an elephant, a pan pizza or a smart leather ankle boot.)

Perhaps the only saving grace is Maples’ swift and friendly online customer service team that has twice apologized and twice sent the Crayolas again my way. They’re en route right now, as I type.

Will they make it this time? Will a giant box arrive empty yet again?

It’s almost as suspenseful as waiting until next month to find out which couples will stay together on “Married At First Sight!”

Bag Lady and Shopping Siren are solidly hooked on the Lifetime series/train wreck once again.

We are so psychologically ready for 5-foot-2-inch Amber to kick every inch of 6-foot-9-inch Matt to the curb, like tout suite.

I cannot imagine the wrath that I would rain down if Mr. Bag Lady decided to not come home for three nights, refused to respond to texts and conveniently forgot his wedding band in his nightstand, all while I’m on an hourslong crying jag for the cameras. (Sending hugs, Amber.)

Not that my delightful husband would dream of it! (I mean, I hope.) Just how delightful is he?

Delightful enough to be watching the new “Beverly Hills, 90210.”

Except this time it’s “BH90210.”

And yes, it is amazing.

The premise, if you’ve missed the first few episodes, is the cast coming back together as their almost-actual-selves to celebrate their once-popular 1990s TV show. Tori Spelling has money woes and a ridiculous reality show, Jennie Garth is recovering from divorce, Brian Austin Green is married to a much more famous wife.

The shots that the actors are willing to take at themselves, and the fresh drama they’re starting to weave, is just plain fun. If you’re remotely from that era, definitely give it a watch.

Do you know where your bread is right now? 

Yes, it requires a little planning, and yes, it’s an extra stop, but you are so missing out if you aren’t visiting Lewiston’s two discount bread Nirvanas, the Country Kitchen Outlet at 20 Locust St. and the Freihofer Bakery Outlet at 24 Landry Road.

I know, life happens and you totally forget they’re there, right?

But we’re talking breads and buns as low as 89 cents! So get your buns over there! And also, like, actually get your buns … over … there.

And if you need one last summer binge recommendation

Start DVR’ing A&E’s “The Employables.” Each episode follows someone with Tourette’s syndrome and someone on the autism spectrum in their quest for a job. It’s uplifting, it’s insightful, it’s a gut punch and it’s great TV. Not Matt-philandering-for–a-fourth-night great, but legitimately, hope-for-humanity great.

I’m all caught up, so you go watch. I’ll be over here hoping for my third set of markers.

Bag Lady’s true identity is protected by a pair of stylish, sweater-wearing Doberman pinschers (who are o-v-e-r summer. O-v-e-r it!) and the customer service counter at the Sun Journal. You can reach her at baglady@sunjournal.com.