One hour in my life today: 1530 - 1630.
I'd been wrapping presents, buying wrapping supplies and writing cards since about 1200 today. I'd figured that four hours would be plenty of time for me to do all that, and it was, but only just. I'd walked a mile to the local shop to get wrapping paper, come home, made a cup of tea, and started doing what needed to be done. I had thought it wasn't very much. Keep in mind that the Post Office closes at 1630, and I'd been told that the absolute last time they'd accept parcels was 1615. So, it gets to 1530, I've had no lunch, and...
1530: Most presents are wrapped. Cards are all written. Decide that I can't send of a pair of wrist warmers where one has a giant, loose thumb and the other can barely fit a thumb in it, so I frog one of the thumbs and decide to do it again. I figured it'd take me 10 minutes, tops.
1540: Ten minutes have passed, thumb is still only half done. Realise that not only must I finish knitting it, but also need to weave in the ends to make it neat. Panic sets in.
1545: THE THUMB STILL ISN'T DONE. Hands start shaking. Apparently my body has decided to make this more of "a challenge" for me, to see how I cope with being unable to hold the damn thing steady.
1555: Success!! The thumb is done. Weave in ends.
1600: Shit fuck bollocks I had planned to be out of here by now. Throw tissue paper around wrist warmers, throw them into the box. Decide to ask Mum to put them in a pretty gift bag before giving them to my Aunt. Realise I had used a box that was too small and still needed to make a sturdy lid to go on top of it. Gah!
1605: Lid is made. Cut wrapping paper to about the right size. Scissors keep snagging on it, making it look like a child has wrapped it. Fuck it, keep going. NO TIME TO REDO ANYTHING!
1610: Success!! Parcel is wrapped. About to leave, realise something is missing... Oh, the fucking label. Idiot. Scribble label. Sorry Donna, I had wanted this to be beautiful, but erm, at least it'll be there on time.
1615: SPRINT to the Post Office. Luckily it's only half a block away, but I'm unfit, so I turn up low on blood sugar, shaky, and out of breath. On my way there I run past my housemate Trey, who is returning from work. He slows down and looks bemused by me running with a large colourful parcel. I don't stop to say hi, just keep running. At the desk, Cindy (the post lady) tells me that the paper I have used is too thin and will rip straight off, taking the address with it. She recommends wrapping it with brown paper. They don't have any for sale though. She suggests using carrier bags. SHIT FUCK BOLLOCKS. She says that she will still accept it if I can make it back by 1630. I accept this challenge, and sprint home, this time uphill. Spot our neighbours out walking their dogs and looking confused as to why I'm carrying a giant box with colourful wrapping paper on it. They wave but don't say anything, I simply scream "LAST POSTING DATE TO UK IS TODAY AND THE PAPER IS TOO THIN! AAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!" They laugh very hard. I run inside.
1620: I can't find any fucking brown paper. Cutting up and resticking carrier bags will take too long. BRAIN WAVE! I will cover the entire thing in clear parcel tape. SUCCESS!
1625: SPRINT back to the Post Office. Cindy smiles and says, "Oh that's a good idea, I wish I had thought of that, I could have done it for you!" I force a smile and say "Don't tell me that!" I fill out a customs form. Cindy is impressed that I came prepared and had already written down exactly what's inside the parcel. The parcel is weighed. "That'll be $53, please," says Cindy. Feel annoyed at how expensive stupid postage is, but hand over money. Parcel gets labels and stamps and is handed to the guys in the back to be delivered, in time to make it to the UK for Christmas.
1630: Collapse in heap in Post Office. Refuse to move until someone brings me a cup of tea.
Donna, you will quite possibly never be able to get into this parcel, I'm sorry.
1530: Most presents are wrapped. Cards are all written. Decide that I can't send of a pair of wrist warmers where one has a giant, loose thumb and the other can barely fit a thumb in it, so I frog one of the thumbs and decide to do it again. I figured it'd take me 10 minutes, tops.
1540: Ten minutes have passed, thumb is still only half done. Realise that not only must I finish knitting it, but also need to weave in the ends to make it neat. Panic sets in.
1545: THE THUMB STILL ISN'T DONE. Hands start shaking. Apparently my body has decided to make this more of "a challenge" for me, to see how I cope with being unable to hold the damn thing steady.
1555: Success!! The thumb is done. Weave in ends.
1600: Shit fuck bollocks I had planned to be out of here by now. Throw tissue paper around wrist warmers, throw them into the box. Decide to ask Mum to put them in a pretty gift bag before giving them to my Aunt. Realise I had used a box that was too small and still needed to make a sturdy lid to go on top of it. Gah!
1605: Lid is made. Cut wrapping paper to about the right size. Scissors keep snagging on it, making it look like a child has wrapped it. Fuck it, keep going. NO TIME TO REDO ANYTHING!
1610: Success!! Parcel is wrapped. About to leave, realise something is missing... Oh, the fucking label. Idiot. Scribble label. Sorry Donna, I had wanted this to be beautiful, but erm, at least it'll be there on time.
1615: SPRINT to the Post Office. Luckily it's only half a block away, but I'm unfit, so I turn up low on blood sugar, shaky, and out of breath. On my way there I run past my housemate Trey, who is returning from work. He slows down and looks bemused by me running with a large colourful parcel. I don't stop to say hi, just keep running. At the desk, Cindy (the post lady) tells me that the paper I have used is too thin and will rip straight off, taking the address with it. She recommends wrapping it with brown paper. They don't have any for sale though. She suggests using carrier bags. SHIT FUCK BOLLOCKS. She says that she will still accept it if I can make it back by 1630. I accept this challenge, and sprint home, this time uphill. Spot our neighbours out walking their dogs and looking confused as to why I'm carrying a giant box with colourful wrapping paper on it. They wave but don't say anything, I simply scream "LAST POSTING DATE TO UK IS TODAY AND THE PAPER IS TOO THIN! AAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!" They laugh very hard. I run inside.
1620: I can't find any fucking brown paper. Cutting up and resticking carrier bags will take too long. BRAIN WAVE! I will cover the entire thing in clear parcel tape. SUCCESS!
1625: SPRINT back to the Post Office. Cindy smiles and says, "Oh that's a good idea, I wish I had thought of that, I could have done it for you!" I force a smile and say "Don't tell me that!" I fill out a customs form. Cindy is impressed that I came prepared and had already written down exactly what's inside the parcel. The parcel is weighed. "That'll be $53, please," says Cindy. Feel annoyed at how expensive stupid postage is, but hand over money. Parcel gets labels and stamps and is handed to the guys in the back to be delivered, in time to make it to the UK for Christmas.
1630: Collapse in heap in Post Office. Refuse to move until someone brings me a cup of tea.
Donna, you will quite possibly never be able to get into this parcel, I'm sorry.