Why My Mail Carrier Hates Me

Well, maybe hate is too strong of a word. I can't actually read her mind.

I don't pick up my mail regularly, so it sort of piles up in the box. I was actually surprised this morning that it wasn't jammed up when I opened it. I expected to need a crowbar to get it out.

Why do I suspect she hates me?

One day last Fall I saw her putting the mail in the boxes so I started to jog over towards her. As I got closer I shouted out, "You probably hate me."

She said, "236?"

Bingo!

I gave her a generous gift for Christmas. Just stuck it in a card and labeled it regular mail carrier for the route on my street.

It's going to cost me again this year, too. But she has a tough job, especially in the Arizona heat. She deserves it.

I'm still reeling a bit from my concussion. The headache is pretty severe, I'm a little muddled and all I want to do is sleep. I suppose that's my body telling me that's the way it wants to heal. I'm going to go to the walk-in clinic tomorrow morning for a follow up, since I'm between PCPs right now. I'm kind of wondering how long to expect this to last.