typical mail
Greetings gentle readers!
Just your friendly, ever-expanding girl-population-booster here.
So I’ll just dive right in, shall I?
Pregnancy is a wonderful time, miracle of new life, *the Glow*, yadda yadda, and oh, by the way…..
YOU DO NOT WANT A PIECE OF ME during this magical time.
Let’s say you are a postal worker who delivers mail to my current new residence.
Let’s say you are SUPREMELY lazy, and have yet to even ATTEMPT to deliver a package TO MY DOOR, and instead leave me slips in my mailbox telling me my package is in the office, where no one ever is, and I have to wait a few extra days to get my parcel, in which I am repeatedly thwarted by signs on said office door stating (’Back at 3 p.m.’ {which is a big fat lie} ) or some such malarky, and attempting to *call* said office results in my call being forwarded to someone’s personal cell phone, since this is a small complex and they don’t stand a lot on ceremony here, and things like ’Office Hours’ are given a slight nod to, at best.
Let’s say I leave you a note on my mailbox, stating that I am a stay-at-home mommy and am almost always home in the hours you usually deliver the mail, and I humbly request that you deliver any packages addressed to me to my door, (which is where I have gotten used to them being delivered over the past 38 years or so, up to and including the last place I lived, which was easily 10 times the size of my current complex.)
Let’s say you leave me a note in return, stating, and I quote,
“I DON’T KNOW WHERE YOU APT IS”, (nevermind that there is a large MAP of our HUGE, SPRAWLING, THREE-BUILDING, CLEARLY-LABELED COMPLEX on the office door), and I am quite certain in that moment, gentle readers, that had you completed that thought, you would have most certainly written “WHERE YOU’RE APARTMENT IS”, because I’m starting to get a creeping suspicion that that’s just how you roll.
Then, let’s just say, for kicks, that I am starting to lose my ever-loving cool. Let’s say that it is becoming harder for me to bite back the blue streak of cursing I don’t want to let loose in front of my daughter, who is quite the little parrot of late.
(Not to be confused with a little pirate, because, like all good parents, we’ve taught her ’the Pirate’ and when we ask her what a pirate says, Em squinches up her little face on one side (which I’m quite impressed with, by the way….great motor control there) and says ’Arrrrrr’ and at that point you just have to eat her with a spoon, even if you’re full)
Let’s say at one point you inquire at the office about such things, on a rare day when you are actually able to retrieve a package, and are informed by the staff that said postal carrier is “not very friendly” and in fact more often than not ends up “delivering” packages by TUCKING THEM INTO THE AWNING ABOVE THE OFFICE DOOR and just LEAVING THEM THERE.
Let’s say you get a few packages from home and when you find the slip telling you ’your package is in the office’, you in fact find the office empty, and your package TUCKED UP INTO THE AWNING ABOVE THE OFFICE DOOR.
Let’s say that even then, however, I’m trying to hold onto myself, and be empathetic, and think how much I would not enjoy being a postal worker, much less in this dismal, endless rain, even though inside my head is a loud voice screaming
“GOOD THING NO ONE MADE ME A POSTAL WORKER OVER EVERY OTHER OCCUPATION IN THE UNIVERSE THEN AND THEN MADE ME LIVE IN SEATTLE OVER ANYWHERE ELSE IN THE NATION!!! WHAT A GOOD THING! BECAUSE WE ALL KNOW PEOPLE DON’T CHOOSE GOVERNMENT JOBS FOR THINGS LIKE JOB SECURITY AND A GOOD PENSION!! NAY, THERE IS A RANDOM LOTTERY AND IF YOU’RE CHOSEN THEN YOU MUST BE A POSTAL WORKER AND YOU ARE FORCED TO TAKE ALL THE TESTS AND QUALIFICATIONS…IT’S COMPLETELY OUT OF YOUR HANDS!!!!!!!”
(My inner voice is quite long-winded. Don’t act all surprised.)
But then let’s just say…..that one lovely, sunshiny Saturday rolls around and one of those ’Sorry we missed you!’ delivery-confirmation-type package slips shows up IN MY MAILBOX, as opposed to ON MY DOOR, where it would be posted had SOMEONE TRIED TO DELIVER SAID PACKAGE AND FOUND NO ONE HOME, instead of NOT, because you have a lazy-ass postal worker who didn’t even bother to TRY to deliver it, since she “DOESN’T KNOW WHERE YOU APT IS”.
When all these things happen, gentle readers, I would steer clear of me for awhile.
At least until Monday rolls around and I finally get pissed off enough to call the post office and complain. Amazingly, I got a wonderfully cooperative manager, who actually said “you’re kidding” a few times when I was describing my plight, and the fate of the packages delivered here, and even reassured me that yes, I was correct, finding my door and delivering to me was part of her job. He also went on to ASSURE ME that my packages would be delivered to me forthwith, and that if I had any more troubles to please let him know.
“Oh don’t worry,” I replied….”I certainly will!”
Whew!
Say what you will, gentle readers, but rather than decide my far-flung parents could send me no more memories from my dearly-departed great uncle, and that I would never order anything online from Amazon or anywhere else ever again, I was much happier today when I got a brief two-tap knock and opened my door to find a package laying outside of it. (Lying? Laying? That’s one I’m never clear on. Show of hands….who cares?)
Woo-hoo! What a rush.
And that lazy-ass must have moved rather quickly, after all, since by the time I opened the door all of 20 seconds after the knock, my hallway was empty.
What can I say, gentle readers?
She may be lazy, but she’s not stupid.
Even she figured it out……
YOU DO NOT WANT A PIECE OF ME.
Arrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
Thanks for reading. Now who’s pissed *you* off lately?
Love and kisses from the mayor…..ushering in role model behavior for the next generation.