It's ten thousand degrees out, which can only mean one thing: 'tis the season to move. Whoever invented moved heavy objects ONLY in the summer months should be shot...
Speaking of being shot...I visited the post office today. It was one of my many errands that I was so feverishly crossing off my list with a big fat sharpie marker. Can I vent for a sec? Thanks. Every time I walk in that place, the line is without a doubt 45 people long. I have mastered the use of the self-automated machine, but today, I needed some over-the-counter assistance, unfortunately. It's always the same 3 people working this counter. Tall Guy that just moves packages behind the scenes and unlocks some magic door, Ronnie the former hippy with a pony tail that is about 4'11 tall and a Big Black Lady that you either need to win over immediately or step aside.
The only reason I come to the post office is to send off fun packages or buy some cute stamps. Nothing else, and no one else should have any other agenda there. But they do. And they are all standing in front of me. One girl was applying for a housing loan, another guy was sending liquid, perishable and flammable stuff to an unknown person in Brazil- no joke. And last and certainly least, an older guy who had to be retired with this being his only outing all day, just chatting it up as loud as he can with everyone in the place. He's swearing and talking about his mom, it was just weird. He had Ronnie, and that's good, because if he would have gotten BBL, he would have been donzo.
My other errands were more fun and included a new white watch (my friend Mattie was my inspiration- thanks :) ) and some Target goodies. But I will declare, for the first time in my life I am sick of shopping and sick of stuff, because anything I buy means I have to box it up, put in the basement and carry across state lines come August.
I am off to a month long assignment at a camp tomorrow- but heck we're not living in tents, I shall write from there!
