What Would Jesus Do?
I got a notice in the mail today that there's a parcel waiting for me at the post office. (Note, I did not actually retrieve the mail. I never collect the mail. Husband always does it. Sometimes I will go to the mail box and open it and look inside, and even pull out all the mail to leaf through the envelopes, but then I put it back in the box for Husband to retrieve when he gets home from work. I do this even when I am on my way up to the apartment and it would be no extra work for me. I have no explanation for this admittedly queer behaviour.)
Anyway, I have this parcel waiting. And now I have to decide: should I go pick it up tomorrow? I know what it is: a book or books from Amazon. But I also know that there will be about four Amazon parcels coming in the next few days, since I made a few orders over a few days, and some of the orders had multiple books which are to be shipped at different times. (Yes, I am a book slut. Yes, I order too many books. But these are all related to my master's so it's justified. It is.) So, considering the fact that I am sick and only have enough energy to a) go get my parcel from the post office or b) breathe all day, I can't be jetting off to pick up parcels with gay abandon whenever I feel like it. I have to conserve my energy and carefully plan all movements. But, since I am too sick to do anything, it's a perfect time to read on the couch all day, and why not read for school? But, if I get this parcel, I'll feel totally ripped off when the next parcel slip arrives and I just got back from the post office. But, if I don't go tomorrow the slip will totally torment me because which book arrived? It is the one with the purple cover or the one that costs $167 in hardback but I got it for $42 in soft?
So I'm going to spend the rest of the night weighing the pros and cons of various manoeuvers related to parcels while trying to ignore the fact that I would be saved all this trouble if the postie who left the notice had just bothered to buzz the apartment, which I did not leave once today (owing to a certain dread disease that has had me glued to the couch in a state of semi-nap since 8am). He wrote on my slip, "Buzzer Not Working" which is obviouly a lie, because I know it works, it has always worked, it worked yesterday, it is working today. Clearly he hates me and wants me to suffer, possibly because I won't bring the mail upstairs. Tomorrow I'm not going to wash my hands, because everyone knows that's the best way to prevent the spread of illness, and I have to conserve my contagion so I can take up residence in the lobby with the express purpose of infecting the postie when he comes. And of getting my next parcel, if it should arrive then.
Anyway, I have this parcel waiting. And now I have to decide: should I go pick it up tomorrow? I know what it is: a book or books from Amazon. But I also know that there will be about four Amazon parcels coming in the next few days, since I made a few orders over a few days, and some of the orders had multiple books which are to be shipped at different times. (Yes, I am a book slut. Yes, I order too many books. But these are all related to my master's so it's justified. It is.) So, considering the fact that I am sick and only have enough energy to a) go get my parcel from the post office or b) breathe all day, I can't be jetting off to pick up parcels with gay abandon whenever I feel like it. I have to conserve my energy and carefully plan all movements. But, since I am too sick to do anything, it's a perfect time to read on the couch all day, and why not read for school? But, if I get this parcel, I'll feel totally ripped off when the next parcel slip arrives and I just got back from the post office. But, if I don't go tomorrow the slip will totally torment me because which book arrived? It is the one with the purple cover or the one that costs $167 in hardback but I got it for $42 in soft?
So I'm going to spend the rest of the night weighing the pros and cons of various manoeuvers related to parcels while trying to ignore the fact that I would be saved all this trouble if the postie who left the notice had just bothered to buzz the apartment, which I did not leave once today (owing to a certain dread disease that has had me glued to the couch in a state of semi-nap since 8am). He wrote on my slip, "Buzzer Not Working" which is obviouly a lie, because I know it works, it has always worked, it worked yesterday, it is working today. Clearly he hates me and wants me to suffer, possibly because I won't bring the mail upstairs. Tomorrow I'm not going to wash my hands, because everyone knows that's the best way to prevent the spread of illness, and I have to conserve my contagion so I can take up residence in the lobby with the express purpose of infecting the postie when he comes. And of getting my next parcel, if it should arrive then.