I love when the mail comes! It's sad to admit, but back when Laura was little it was sometimes the highlight of my day (cue the sad violins). And if I remember correctly, being the one to get the mail was a pretty big deal when I was a kid, so I'm sure that has something to do with my current obsession.
I also happen to be very fascinated with the Post Office and all of it's inner workings. I'd love to take a tour of one someday and find out what exactly goes on with sorting and delivering the mail. Are the delivery people responsible for sorting their own mail? Do they put it all in their truck at once or do they have to go back to the Post Office to get more? How does the sorting machine read handwriting? So many questions!! Yes, I really am that nerdy. The Army Man often says that when he retires from the Army he will be a postal worker, and I often dream of those days, days when he will wear really cute shorts and give me a behind-the-scenes tour of the post office.
All that being said, I have a complaint. Of course I do. I hate that we are the 7th to last house on our postal worker's route. I have to watch everyone else get their mail while I wait and wait. Today our mail came at 8:02pm. That's a long time for this mail-loving girl to wait. And that's a really, really long day for our poor postal worker who isn't even allowed to accept tips at Christmas (although I think I read somewhere that they can if it's not cash and less than $20).
Usually our mail comes at about 5 or 6, so I hope it's just taking so long lately because of the Christmas season. Our poor guy doesn't deserve to be out so late. It's cold and windy today. He should be at home enjoying his Friday night. And I wish I had gotten my mail much earlier today. After all, why should I wait in anticipation ALL DAY only to receive bills and junk mail?