It's happening. I am losing my patience...completely.
I just went to check my mail. Remember the time my order from Oyin was stuck in my mailbox? It's happened at least two or three more times since then - basically every time I've ordered from Oyin - but it wasn't THAT big a deal because here's the thing: Oyin, for some reason, doesn't put any tape on their packages. At all. So it's really very easy to open the box, take the stuff out, and then squash the box enough to get it out of the mailbox. Really I'm not very comfortable with the idea of my packages being shipped to me with no packing tape AT ALL on them (and frankly I'm surprised that the Post Office will accept them like that), but at least it makes it possible to get them out of my damn mailbox.
Well today, the same thing happened AGAIN, but this time, with a box from Target. Target actually puts tape on their packages. It is literally impossible to get out of my mailbox. (For the record, if you do not have and have never had a mailbox of this kind, one big door opens up in the BACK, revealing all of the mailboxes, which is where the mail carrier puts in all of the mail. Due to the frames of the individual doors in front, the front openings are smaller than the back openings. And my mail carrier does not seem to realize this.)
So after trying for a minute or two to pry the package out using my keys, I stormed back across the street and started writing a note to the mail carrier in BIG BLACK SHARPIE LETTERS. Something to the effect of "Dear Mail Carrier, Packages of this size DO NOT FIT through the front door of the mailbox unless they are cut open, emptied, and squashed down while still inside the mailbox. I am tired of doing this and I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO. Stop putting these boxes in the mailbox!!"
When I was almost done writing this note, my doorbell rang. I went to the door - obviously already not in the best mood - and there was a teenager standing there with a small stack of newspapers and a clipboard. "Did you get your free..." he started.
"What are you selling?"
"It's the Honolulu Advertiser. It's free."
"Yes, but what are you selling?"
"You're not supposed to be going door to door in military housing, you know that, right?" (You're not. It's considered trespassing on government property.)
"Um..." He obviously didn't know that.
"My two year old is trying to fall asleep and you probably just woke him up. Thanks."
"...I'm sorry, ma'am..."
"Bye." And I closed the door and locked it. Even though I was about to go back across the street again in, like, a minute and a half.
Now normally I am WAY TOO NICE to these kids. Hell, one time I even ended up with a three-year subscription to Bon Appetit - which I had never read before. (Luckily I ended up liking it.) But the more pregnant I get, the less patience I have. I speak up when the clerk at Walmart is ignoring the long line of customers, I complain to the company when I have to pay return shipping because of THEIR mistake, and I definitely have no patience for teenagers ringing my doorbell at 8 minutes to 8PM. I put Brandon to sleep early tonight, but normally I would have still been upstairs, lying in bed with him, at 7:52. Brian is not home tonight to answer the door so that kid is damn lucky that he didn't take me away from my son's bedtime routine for whatever the hell he was selling.
I do feel bad for being as nasty as I was. Really, I do. But honestly, I just have absolutely. No. Patience.
Anyway, I finished the note, walked back across the street to the mailboxes, and did my best to shove the note behind the package, where the mail carrier will hopefully see it the next time (s)he is delivering our mail. I just hope we get some mail tomorrow and don't have to wait until Monday. Because, dammit, I want my package.
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