Thursday, April 21, 2005
Seriously?
Has it really been a week since my blogversary? And have I really only written one post a week throughout the entire month of April? I do apologize.
There's some sort of road construction going on on my street. I think they're widening the whole shebang to add either 2 more lanes or just a center turn lane. Not sure. But they've made a big mess out of everything. My mailbox is lying in the yard, I can barely find my driveway any more, and I came out my front door (my only door) this afternoon to find my neighbor driving through my back yard (my only yard, which is ironically what you step into when you walk out the front door) because there was a large piece of machinery in her driveway. When I came home the other day, I couldn't get into my driveway due to a large mountain of dirt that they had placed there. I think they must have sent someone back there to see where my driveway went, and whoever they sent on reconnaissance returned saying, "Ain't nothin' but an old shed back there. Cain't nobody live in it. This here mailbox's gotta be a joke." So they took everything down and piled dirt and rocks on my only entrance. My only way home. Shed, sweet shed. Cruel.
I went out today to ask them when they thought they might put my mailbox back up ('cause, you know, I'm still waiting for my tax refund check to come), and they informed me that it would be back up this afternoon. Then they asked me the weirdest question I've ever been asked (and bear in mind, I teach ESL AND work in retail): "Have you looked in the mailbox?" What? The mailbox is on its side. In the dirt. Fifteen feet away from the road. In the middle of construction. I don't think the mailman is that dedicated, I'm sorry to say. My puzzled expression apparently tipped them off to these questions and concerns running through my mind, so they clued me in. "We put your mail in there." Is that legal? Are you an official of the U.S. Postal Service? I think not. So I climbed the mountain of construction waste and debris, dirtying my new AE flip-flops, squatted by my fallen mailbox and looked inside to find nothing more than this week's coupons. If my tax refund never makes it, those people have some splainin' to do.
There's some sort of road construction going on on my street. I think they're widening the whole shebang to add either 2 more lanes or just a center turn lane. Not sure. But they've made a big mess out of everything. My mailbox is lying in the yard, I can barely find my driveway any more, and I came out my front door (my only door) this afternoon to find my neighbor driving through my back yard (my only yard, which is ironically what you step into when you walk out the front door) because there was a large piece of machinery in her driveway. When I came home the other day, I couldn't get into my driveway due to a large mountain of dirt that they had placed there. I think they must have sent someone back there to see where my driveway went, and whoever they sent on reconnaissance returned saying, "Ain't nothin' but an old shed back there. Cain't nobody live in it. This here mailbox's gotta be a joke." So they took everything down and piled dirt and rocks on my only entrance. My only way home. Shed, sweet shed. Cruel.
I went out today to ask them when they thought they might put my mailbox back up ('cause, you know, I'm still waiting for my tax refund check to come), and they informed me that it would be back up this afternoon. Then they asked me the weirdest question I've ever been asked (and bear in mind, I teach ESL AND work in retail): "Have you looked in the mailbox?" What? The mailbox is on its side. In the dirt. Fifteen feet away from the road. In the middle of construction. I don't think the mailman is that dedicated, I'm sorry to say. My puzzled expression apparently tipped them off to these questions and concerns running through my mind, so they clued me in. "We put your mail in there." Is that legal? Are you an official of the U.S. Postal Service? I think not. So I climbed the mountain of construction waste and debris, dirtying my new AE flip-flops, squatted by my fallen mailbox and looked inside to find nothing more than this week's coupons. If my tax refund never makes it, those people have some splainin' to do.
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