Morning, Cantina. Feeling way better today in spite of the rain and clouds. I'll keep note of my various period-related symptoms over the months though and if it seems I need to change pills by the time my next doctor's appointment rolls around, then I'll discuss that with her.
Interesting thing happened yesterday. The mail truck came in the driveway and delivered this huge package when we hadn't ordered anything and certainly nothing of that size. Went out to look at it and it was in one of those big ol' mail bins like the mail person has in their truck to carry a whole bunch of things and inside was a box inside of two white plastic bags. The bags had a hole in them so you could see inside to the address label...the nasty, corroded, molded address label you could barely read, but from what we could make out, though it had our street name on it, you couldn't actually see the house number and it was intended for a different county. We called the post office to say, hey this isn't ours, you need to come get it, and why are you delivering something in this nasty condition anyway? They said they'd come get it at the end of the delivery day, but never came and my dad finally called the police because he was feeling like what the heck is this thing anyway and is it something that's even supposed to be sent through the U.S. mail?
The police officer came out reeeeaaally fast. Like, within 15 minutes fast, which is significant out here. By that time, the thing was actually leaking ammonia-smelling liquid on our porch and the officer made the decision to open it. Inside was more plastic bags and two containers of what the officer judged to be fiberglass cleaner, one of which was broken, thus the leaking. The stuff was corrosive enough that when he made the decision to seize the items, it actually burned his hands a bit. Um...call me crazy, but when I mail stuff, don't I have to sign a thing that says there are no liquid, flammable, corrosive, or dangerous materials inside the box? Somebody's in trouuuuble. To say the least, we're still harassing the post office to come get their mailing bin because it wasn't supposed to come here anyway and we have no use for it. My dad is also sending them and other officials complaints that they delivered something like that to begin with, much less to the wrong address. I mean, seriously, YOU COULD NOT READ THAT ADDRESS LABEL. What on earth did the delivery person think? "Gee, the house number is totally invisible because of how corroded the label is, but I can make out the street name, so I'm going to dump the nasty, suspicious, package on a random porch and hope it's the right one!" Uh, no, you return to sender and maybe stop taking people's word for it that there are no liquid, flammable, corrosive, or dangerous materials inside. Seriously, people.
On the upside, the fiberglass cleaner made that one spot on the porch all bright and clean.
Hugs for all people having crappy days. If it makes you feel better, here's a video of
pretty wildflowers set to pretty music. Just ignore the lady talking. She's some crazy person living in the wood
Hi kitkit!
*saves link*
I'm off to write. Really hoping I can get this short done by the weekend!