Going Postal

I have a nemesis. This is quite exciting for me, because I haven't had a nemesis since Adam was at HBS (ah, RS, where are you now?). But now, now I have one. And it is... our mail carrier! I've never loved our mail carrier--she shoves envelopes in magazines and flyers so they're hard to find and occasionally get tossed and then retrieved from recycling. She often misdelivers mail. But last week was the kicker. Our mail stopped coming. I mean completely. I went to the main post office, dragging a sleepy Pie, and picked up my mail. "She's deemed it unsafe to deliver to your house because of the construction," I was told. "You can call her in the morning to figure something out." Unsafe? I walk into that house everyday with my two children. Would I do that if it were unsafe? There's no construction at all on the front porch.

I was so annoyed by this that I made Adam call, because I knew I wouldn't be nice. "We have to move the mailbox to the light pole or the tree," Adam told me. Adam went in the morning to try and move it to the light pole, but whatever he bought to do it, didn't do the trick, so our contractor moved the mailbox to the outside of the porch, as you see here:

I came home that afternoon to no mail. "I saw your mail person," my contractor said. "She said its still too dangerous."

"That's too dangerous?"

He shrugged. "The box has to be on the pole or the tree."

"She said that?"

"Yep."

"And she didn't just give you the mail to place in the mailbox?"

"Nope."

The next day we had mail delivery. I asked the contractor but I knew even before he answered that it was our weekend guy subbing in. He didn't deem it too dangerous.

The box has since moved to our tree. But I'm bitter. And annoyed. And I have a nemesis. I am plotting my revenge....