Blind Without A Package

No. That's not the title of my racy new novel about a visually-challenged eunuch. It's the story of my last 12 hours.

Well, it's official. I am out of work. And furthermore, I have no class.

SNOW DAY! Yippee! I got showered and dressed this morning. The Pony had been up a half hour. We were in the middle of our morning routine when the phone rang. Oh, yessss! The landline and cell phone automated calls came before the faculty phone tree call. I think that's because the branch above me lives right across from Newmentia, and is a late riser. Anyhoo...I passed on my info to the branch below me, who has kids in school, so no doubt also got her automated calls first as well.

Yeah, Mabel. Were you watching the news for that sweet scroll to near the end of the list, and squeal with delight when our name came up? C'mon. I know you were! Old habits die hard. I'm sure you did not miss driving to Newmentia, only to be dismissed early, and being chauffeured home by our noble custodians. Nor did you miss hopping on the bus for a ride to school. This much I know for sure.

Of course I had business that needed tending. My new revised bifocals were in. And I had a package to be picked up after noon at the dead-mouse-smelling post office. The sleet arrived early today, my friends. Early. Like old people showing up for dinner at 4:00 for the all-you-can-eat buffet.

I called the normal-smelling post office in the next town. The main hub. Could I pick up my package there before noon? The man took my address and put me on hold. He came back and said that I could. This was at 8:10. The Pony and I showed up at 9:00. NO PACKAGE FOR YOU! That's what a counter lady told The Pony. That it had already left. I said he was being shined. That a man said we could pick it up.

"Uh. Maybe so. But she went to the back room to look. And she even called the person who took it. So I think that theory is wrong."

Hmpf. The route driver brings it back to the hub after it won't fit in the box. Then a truck takes it to the dead-mouse-smelling post office around 10:30 or 11:00 the next day. We used to pass those two trucks all summer when we were out gallivanting on the lake road. Funny how on a sleety day, they left a couple of hours early. Which would make one think that the package would arrive at the deceased-rodent-aroma facility before noon. One would think. But no. It was not there at 10:30. Somewhere in Hillmomba is a big white elephant poker game of packages, run by ne'er-do-well USPS employees.

Oh, but that wasn't the best of the bad news. My newest bifocals were still unusable. I swear I'm on one of those pranking shows. The worker probably makes $100 each time she gives me the wrong prescription and I don't clock her.

The weather was really bad by the time we headed home from our two failed vital missions. At least we took my mom a carton of milk so she could have cornbread with the beans and ham she cooked this morning. I can't believe she was not prepared for this storm.

Oh. Don't hate me because I'm blind without a package. Hate me because I AM OFF WORK AGAIN ON FRIDAY!