Sasquatch

Each of those flat rate boxes will cost you five dollars extra to mail from here. Cough cough cough, blow my nose. You’re kidding me? Nope, it’s like we are running to the post office for you. 

Four boxes back to the car. Drive to the Post Office. Lady in her Disney voice—hi, welcome...now her Darth Vader voice—fill out customs for these two packages. And move on down the line. The next person will help you after you fill out customs. BUT FIRST, pay me for these two REGULAR flat rate boxes. 

Oops, the next person says. You need to fill out this little piece of paper instead of customs, AFTER I’ve already filled out customs. Sometimes that happens—you have to fill out different forms for customs, he tells me.  It’s all United States, he tells me. Cough cough cough, blow my nose. Well if it’s all United States why do I have to fill out customs? To make sure, he tells me, no one mails inappropriate materials to our troops. So l ask, “how many people walk up and say, I have some inappropriate reading material I’d like to ship to the troops.” He understands this is rhetorical and ignores me. Sasquatch, I’m mailing Sasquatch to the troops. And “Who Pooped in the Park?” Now, can we finish this transaction before I lose my dignity? My patience are shot. I’m like a snotty nose kid. And I want a popsicle and a blanky. 

I’m sick of being sick. I’m praying for all y’all who are sick, so we all get better before I act tacky. Two weeks is long enough. God forgive me if I’ve inadvertently or otherwise judged someone for being sick.