I set out for my mom's and the post office this morning around 10 am. While on the freeway, a rock bounced up and nicked my car windshield. Nice little crack in it now.
Got to the (first) post office ready to ship a few things out, most importantly, a CARE package for Jason. I waited in line holding two huge boxes (and probably giving myself Carpal Tunnel in the process) only to be told that since it was Saturday I couldn't send anything out. They only did pick ups. I looked at the lady flabbergasted and said, "Why not? You're the post office!" She just shrugged, which made my blood absolutely boil. Even more so because I had specifically gone online to make sure they had Saturday hours. That's when it dawns on me and I say, "You need to put this kind of information on your website!" She said there was no reason to get upset to which I said, "Yes there is. I'm trying to send a package to my husband in Afghanistan." I turned to leave and realized the other post office patrons were looking at me with some sympathy in their eyes. Someone even asked if they could help me to the car with my boxes. I started crying and said no thank you.
I arrived at a second post office (where I could send things out on Saturday) and the lady behind the counter asked how I was doing. I immediately started crying again and she asked, "What's wrong sweetheart?" I just looked at her with big fat tears in my eyes and said, "Thank you for being open on a Saturday." Then she looked down and saw what I was sending and asked how long Jason had been gone, to which I pitifully blurted out, "Only a month!" She just smiled and said, "Well, I know when it comes to getting packages to those boys every day counts." I started crying so hard she had to give me tissues.
Once I was assembled with my mom, step-dad, and step-sister, we headed for IKEA to pick up the bed for our guest room plus a few other essentials. They were out of the picture frames I wanted, out of stock on the lamp I wanted, and in the self-serve furniture section my mom dropped a box on my head so hard I now have a bump and a throbbing headache. We made it back to our house, started to walk inside and Mom opened her door so hard she knocked me into the flower bed as I was walking by. Then while we were setting up the bed, she stepped on my toe.
But at least we have a guest bed.
Got to the (first) post office ready to ship a few things out, most importantly, a CARE package for Jason. I waited in line holding two huge boxes (and probably giving myself Carpal Tunnel in the process) only to be told that since it was Saturday I couldn't send anything out. They only did pick ups. I looked at the lady flabbergasted and said, "Why not? You're the post office!" She just shrugged, which made my blood absolutely boil. Even more so because I had specifically gone online to make sure they had Saturday hours. That's when it dawns on me and I say, "You need to put this kind of information on your website!" She said there was no reason to get upset to which I said, "Yes there is. I'm trying to send a package to my husband in Afghanistan." I turned to leave and realized the other post office patrons were looking at me with some sympathy in their eyes. Someone even asked if they could help me to the car with my boxes. I started crying and said no thank you.
I arrived at a second post office (where I could send things out on Saturday) and the lady behind the counter asked how I was doing. I immediately started crying again and she asked, "What's wrong sweetheart?" I just looked at her with big fat tears in my eyes and said, "Thank you for being open on a Saturday." Then she looked down and saw what I was sending and asked how long Jason had been gone, to which I pitifully blurted out, "Only a month!" She just smiled and said, "Well, I know when it comes to getting packages to those boys every day counts." I started crying so hard she had to give me tissues.
Once I was assembled with my mom, step-dad, and step-sister, we headed for IKEA to pick up the bed for our guest room plus a few other essentials. They were out of the picture frames I wanted, out of stock on the lamp I wanted, and in the self-serve furniture section my mom dropped a box on my head so hard I now have a bump and a throbbing headache. We made it back to our house, started to walk inside and Mom opened her door so hard she knocked me into the flower bed as I was walking by. Then while we were setting up the bed, she stepped on my toe.
But at least we have a guest bed.
