Sunday Mail Delivery

How bizarre is that?  At 9:30 this morning, a USPS mail truck stopped by to deliver a couple of packages.  I thought they only did that around Christmas.  I guess they do that during tax time, too, although these had nothing to do with taxes.  Besides, if you haven’t already sent out your state and federal tax returns, it’s not as though the government won’t accept them, but they really should be postmarked by tomorrow.

Mom called early this morning to tell me to hold off on Easter dinner, but come visit, anyway.  Yes, I can freeze the ham; it’s pre-cooked, and cured, so sticking it in the freezer won’t hurt it.  Actually, the real reason for her calling me was to ask me to track something she sent in the mail, because “you know how to do that.”  She asked me to get a pad of paper and a pencil, so I could write down the tracking number.  Um, no, that was not necessary.  I could plug in the number on my computer as we spoke, and did so.  The only thing that threw me for a loop was that it was delivered a week and a half ago, halfway across the country.  I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore, Toto, but that’s almost where the letter ended up being delivered — K.C., MO, but it’s on the border with KS.  *eye roll*

The personnel from my three nearest post offices are wonderful.  The people in the regional sorting facilities, not so much.  I miss the days when people used to take pride in a job well done, whether it was mixing a DQ Blizzard, grilling a steak, or something a little more complicated, such as statistical modeling.  GIGO (garbage in, garbage out).

One thought on “Sunday Mail Delivery

  1. I miss the days when my grandma was post master of the itty bitty town she lived in. People passing through made a point to stop because she was great at her job. She loved the job because it wasn’t that difficult, and in those days they didn’t care that she had a sewing machine there as long as she got the work done she could spend her time sewing or whatever.

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