You know...at some point in all this, I've come to believe the U.S. Postal Service doesn't employ humans, but instead uses monkeys that were rejected from the space program because they have some form of brain damage.
Case in point. As most of you know, I've recently moved into a new house, and after a couple weeks on hiatus, the Ebay packages are once again flowing.
I go to the store and purchase a brand spanking new large silver plastic tote with a lid. This thing is huge. Large enough to fit several packages at once and protect them from the elements until I get home from work.
I then lovingly write the word PACKAGES in HUGE. BLACK. LETTERS. on the lid. I even put a couple small weights in the bottom of it so it doesn't blow away, and place the tote LITERALLY ONE FOOT NEXT TO MY FRONT DOOR.
So...I get home yesterday. Where is my package? Is it in the tote? NOOOOOOOO. It's leaning next to it getting RAINED ON.
Now, at this point, I'm pretty sure my new neighbors all heard the slap as my hand hit my forehead, followed by ten minutes of profanity laced screaming about how Stevie Effing Wonder couldn't have missed that tote. But hold on...it gets BETTER.
I was expecting several packages this week, and after tracking them, saw the P.O. had left a notice for a second package. But where was it? Not in my mailbox...had it blown away in the rain? Then I decided to do the unthinkable...I looked in the tote, and there in the bottom was a single 3x5 inch orange card.
Brain damaged monkeys. I'm sure of it.
Case in point. As most of you know, I've recently moved into a new house, and after a couple weeks on hiatus, the Ebay packages are once again flowing.
I go to the store and purchase a brand spanking new large silver plastic tote with a lid. This thing is huge. Large enough to fit several packages at once and protect them from the elements until I get home from work.
I then lovingly write the word PACKAGES in HUGE. BLACK. LETTERS. on the lid. I even put a couple small weights in the bottom of it so it doesn't blow away, and place the tote LITERALLY ONE FOOT NEXT TO MY FRONT DOOR.
So...I get home yesterday. Where is my package? Is it in the tote? NOOOOOOOO. It's leaning next to it getting RAINED ON.
Now, at this point, I'm pretty sure my new neighbors all heard the slap as my hand hit my forehead, followed by ten minutes of profanity laced screaming about how Stevie Effing Wonder couldn't have missed that tote. But hold on...it gets BETTER.
I was expecting several packages this week, and after tracking them, saw the P.O. had left a notice for a second package. But where was it? Not in my mailbox...had it blown away in the rain? Then I decided to do the unthinkable...I looked in the tote, and there in the bottom was a single 3x5 inch orange card.

Brain damaged monkeys. I'm sure of it.
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