Going Postal
I stood in line at the post office today. I was waiting to mail my niece an advent calendar..it was already a day late…and should take at least two days to get there. My brother pointed out how convenient it will be to tell 3 year old Zara that today she can open 4 windows…but tomorrow and for the rest of advent she can only open 1.
No matter when you go to the post office, it seems to be to always be packed. I’ve been there at 9 when they opened…waited half an hour. I’ve been there at 2:30 in the middle of the day…waited half an hour. Now, in the grand scheme of things, a half an hour doesn’t amount to much. But as I waited, I could just see the frustration growing around me. People, as they got closer to the front of the line, seemed to be getting ancier and ancier, more and more angered with how long it was taking.
I’m sure I’m not the first to notice this.
One man, by the time he got to the counter, was so angry…he was mad at the lady because she couldn’t guarantee that his package would get somewhere tomorrow. “But it was supposed to be there last week,” he said. I immediately thought, well, then…you should have mailed it last week. Had I been working behind the counter, I’m sure that thought would have been said out loud…but the lady contained herself, and just re-itterated that she couldn’t guarantee delivery.
Waiting. Patience. They are good things. I certainly hope my neice has more patience than the man at the post office as she waits for Christmas to come, and opens her advent calendar one day at a time (with the exception of the first day she gets it…good luck with that Wayne).
