My wonderful mother sent me a package...5 weeks ago. The post office at home said that it would take about 3 weeks (which is about a week longer than a letter, so that made sense). So about week 4 I began to get worried that it had fallen into the black whole that can come with the postal service. I went into the office nearest to me to pepper them with questions. They scanned all the boxes waiting patiently on the shelves for their owners. I said that I thought it was a smaller, white package and they checked one more place and shrugged. Dang it.
I asked mom that night about the package, was I correct in my description? Turns out not even a little bit. I was correct in the fact that it was a box, that was about it. It was a large, brown box, and armed with this new information I returned to the post office the next day. Luckily someone new was behind the counter so I didn't have to worry about looking too dumb. She also scanned the shelves of lonely packages, coming up empty handed. Guess I shouldn't have been surprised. That was about a week ago.
But a break through moment came yesterday. Returning home from work, I was unlocking my front door when I noticed a little yellow slip in my mail box...could it be? Eyes wide, I searched for the mail box key, opened the door and almost shouted out loud! It was the slip for my package! Unfortunately I got home about ten minutes before the post office closed, so I would have to pick up my package the next day (today).
Today I had an ultimate plan...work in the morning until about 11:30, get the package, go home to drop off the package and pick up all of my bags for the Fulbright Enrichment Seminar (which I am currently at) and head to Mt. Hope for a 12:30 meeting. When the meeting was finished I would head to Port of Spain and our hotel. I'd be cutting it short, but it was doable. Leaving work I was so excited to get to the post office I could barely stand it. I walked in with a smile, seeing the guy behind the counter from my first visit to the post office. I handed him the slip and he went into a filing cabinet and pulled out a stack of letters. Hmmm...wait a second, I'm here for a package right? Turns out I had to sign for the package here and get a slip from customs that said the package was not filled with drugs and the processing fee for that realization (about $3US so no big deal, but a isn't that what postage is for?). I signed and waited with smile. He just looked back at me. Turns out this wasn't actually where I pick up the package. That building is about 3 blocks down inside a pharmacy, I have no idea why.
Time is now running pretty short and I'm a little pissed. I flag the nearest Maxi and tell them Lee's Pharmacy please (ironic name, huh). I'm not quite so smiley walking in here, but I present the slip and start digging for the money. "ID please." No problem, here's my Illinois Driver's License...turns out passport is what she was looking for. Who doesn't carry around their passport? Oh right, I don't. You have got to be kidding me. 12:05. This is not going to happen is it?
Defeated and totally angry, I walked out hailing a Maxi going in the other direction so I can get to Mt. Hope in time for the meeting. Change of plans. Now I will go home after the meeting, get the passport and all my bags. I'll just bring the package with me to the hotel, it can't be too much to carry, right? I even grabbed a bag that I can fit it into on the way...then I'll leave the box at the hotel and back the contents in the bag on the way back. Take a guess, did the box fit in the bag? Of course it didn't, what kind of debacle would this be if it fit? Walking in the 95+ heat, I now had a full backpack of clothes, a shoulder bag with my computer and a book or two and a handle-less plastic bag with the oversized package. I made it, I did. Nothing broke, nothing stolen, no irrevocable damage except a bit to my ego. I think I enjoyed the package a little more with all I went through to get it!
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
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