Going Postal

P.O.'ed…Post Office…do you see the resemblance? It's no coincidence that they share the same initials. Forgive me because I have to talk smack for a bit.

The Post Office has flaked on me, like a terrible friend who doesn't follow through on promises and then blames me for trusting them in the first place. You are not the victim, Post Office. You have failed me one too many times. I have trusted you with my belongings only be let down time and again.

You leave me cryptic notices that have incorrect tracking numbers, inaccurate dates, and scribbly penmanship. You ignore my phone calls when all I want to do is collect my belongings and get out of your life for good. And then you play with my emotions, one day telling me that you've lost my package and it's my fault for not picking it up in time. I come to you the next day, full of rage and defeat, and then, with a self-righteous smirk, you inform me that the package was there all along and that you don't know what all the fuss is about. I'm tired of the lies and I'm tired you abusing me and my packages, case in point:

Post Office, you're lucky this box was filled with clothes and shoes and that my at-home solo fashion show made me forget that I was furious with you and your behavior. Til next time, Post Office. You have not heard the last of me.