Friday, August 17, 2012

hiding from the mailman.

I'm not ashamed to admit it.
Even though I totally should be.
I'm hiding from the mailman.
Like, everyday.

In our final meeting with the previous owners of this house, we were warned told that the mailbox attached to our house was going to have to be replaced with a mailbox out next to the street.  All of the other houses in our neighborhood have a mailbox out on the street.  Except ours.  The previous owners had to fight to keep their mailbox attached to their house.  And now, since we are new, we'll have to put one out on the street.  No big deal, really.  If I were a mailman and all of the other mailboxes on my route were on the street, I would probably "go postal' on the lame residents who made me get off my butt and walk their stupid mail down their stupid driveway and put it in their stupid mailbox attached to their stupid house.  I get it.  I'm lazy too.  And so we bought a mailbox right away, but it's still in a box in the garage because Husband is in Boston all week and there is no way in H-E-double hockey sticks that you are going to see me out there pounding a post into the ground.  What I would love is to get it up and operable before the mailman verbally tells me we need to get a new mailbox, because that would be awkward.  And so I am in hiding {because that makes perfect sense, right?}.  And then add to the "drama" that we are still receiving important mail for the previous owners {who recently had their phone number disconnected so I can't even call to tell them, duh} and so I keep adding to the rubberbanded bundle in the mailbox with a nice note for the mailman about "blah blah blah, these people no longer live here" and everyday that mailman never takes that stupid bundle.  And a normal human being would just go give him the mail when they see him pull up, but that goes against the whole avoiding him thing I've got going.  

I know what you're thinking.
My life is hard.
And yes it is.  
So Husband, get home and build me a mailbox if you have any love for me at all.

*PS.  There may or may not have been a brief time in history that my children can or cannot tell you about me {and them - or not} hiding from the Schwann's man every Thursday.

1 comment:

  1. The good news is that if I ever need to go into hiding, I know just the girl to call. LOL


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