Skip to main content

Holiday Hassle

The hustle and bustle at this time of year is infamous. I, like every other person in modern-day America, promise that I am going to shop online, am going to get my errands and mailing done early, and am going to sit back and relax throughout the season approaching Christmas. Of course I never do, and today was no different.

I headed to the Post Office with arms overloaded at 8am this morning, praising myself for beating the mad Monday rush (the 18th of course will be heralded as the busiest mailing day of the year). I had a dilemma about how to get my too-many packages into the building and up to the counter. Should I even attempt to carry them all at once? (even half the load was near impossible). Should I take in half, and speak to the nice counter woman explaining that I have another load and could I please deposit half the load in a safe spot while I run to the van for the second armload? Should I carry half inside, deposit it in line to hold my place and then dash back out to get the other half and meet my 'party' of packages where I left them? Would people think I expected them to guard my stuff? Would somebody assume that I was trying to budge the line when I returned with my second load? Would somebody take one of my packages??!

My decision was complicated by the fact that when I entered the building, absolutely no one would make eye contact (neither the customers nor the postal worker) so I couldn't nicely ask any favors. I decided all this thinking was using entirely too much energy, so I brought in half my load, stood in line for 20 minutes, made my way to the counter, paid my $34 in shipping and returned to my van for the second load and got back in line for another 20 minutes and paid a second bill of $28 and went on my way.

The whole time I was in line, I assessed whether I had made the right choice. I'm pretty sure I did considering that there were 3 counter people at the the Post Office, one helping customers and the other two intently watching her. Of course, once I was at the counter for the second time, the charm turned on and previously oblivious counter woman acted shocked that I was in line a second time, but she didn't suggest how I could have done it differently. Go figure!

Comments

Anonymous said…
Oh my word Jennifer, you’re killing me. But I couldn’t help but get a little chuckled with all that song and dance you just finished describing.
Anonymous said…
Oh my word Jennifer, you’re killing me. But I couldn’t help but get a little chuckled with all that song and dance you just finished describing.
Anonymous said…
Oh my word Jennifer, you’re killing me. But I couldn’t help but get a little chuckled with all that song and dance you just finished describing.

Popular posts from this blog

Mixed Feelings

It's been a long time in coming, but as of this morning, I'm no longer a medical transcriptionist. I'm not sure how I feel about that...a little bit relieved, a little bit sad, a lot bit uncertain about whether I'll regret this decision. For the last year or so, I've found that the transcription work isn't fulfilling the need I once had to stay at home with my babies and have an income. I've increasingly felt that I need more interaction and less monotony. I've also felt the pressure of work that constantly needs to be done, with no sense of ever being really "finished." No matter how much work you've done for the day, there's always another note waiting to be transcribed. That goes for sick days, holidays, vacations days or any kind of days. This year, I've dabbled in substituting as a school monitor and office staff, and kind of found my niche in the last few weeks. I'll be working a couple of hours a day in one of the ...

Stickin' It Out

I got married today. Well, not exactly today. It was Friday, June 2. But the year was 1989 - 17 years ago. "Amazing", people say. "Good for you", they comment. "You must have picked the right one", the add. Amazing? Yes. Good for me? I'll admit it. But it has nothing to do with picking the right one, really. It's not because I found the perfect boy, and it's certainly not because he found the perfect girl. It might sound a little unromantic, but there never really is a 'right one' floating around out there waiting in the cosmos for the other 'right one' to crash and connect. There may be 'better ones'; there may be 'more easily compatible' or something or other. But the real story is you start becoming the right one the moment you vow that "you do". When I married, I had been 20 for a whole 33 days, we had just completed a 2-year long-distance realtionship and HE was five years older tha...

Too Close For Comfort

Depressing: Def., "Realizing that you and your Dearly Beloved are entirely to close to wearing the same pant size. Case in point - Hero Guy came ' har har-ing' out of the bedroom relating that he had accidentally been wearing a pair of my jeans for the last 15 minutes. He wondered why they felt so weird (translated - TIGHT) until he took them off and inspected the tag. He gloated that at least he knows he can fit into a Ladies Size ___ (you really think I'm going to tell you the number?!). My Observations: 1) He had a MONSTER wedgie, so the jeans were entirely too small for him. 2) They are my "fat" jeans, a size bigger than what I actually wear, but I just like the broken-in feeling of them. Or the roominess or something. 3) They were the stretchy kind of jeans, so an elephant could have painted itself into them. 4) What's he bragging about having a girlish figure for anyway? Not very macho if you ask me. Hmph.