in which you just have to bear with me

Today was a good day. For no particular reason, it just was. Probably so because today was the day after a sickness, THE day when you feel alive again like THIS is what breathing feels like, like THIS is what being awake and alert feels like. I just ended my workday not feeling like I wanted to crawl into bed, and that, that is some kind of feat.

And then I went to my mailbox and inside was a notice that the post office had tried to deliver a package to me and missed me and was now holding my package hostage. This is the third such notice I’ve gotten in three weeks. The first was from Amazon, a forgotten order I had placed that arrived unknowingly. I was so excited for an unknown package until I opened it and said, “Oh, yeah.” Then the second notice was for a birthday package my mom sent. I was expecting it even though I didn’t know she was sending me and umbrella stand. But, today, this notice was out of left field. And so, this is where you have to bear with me.

I’ve decided this package is from my semi-secret crush, that he has, in fact, realized that the stars aligned when we met and that he has only been avoiding fate since that moment and that he could think of nothing but to send me a package full of mixed Cds, a t-shirt of his favorite saying, and a book he thinks I need to read. And he tried desperately to get it to me on Valentine’s Day (a day I don’t really care about anyway), but the U.S. mail is just too unpredictable so the package came a day late, yet still holds all the goodness and sincerity of his heart being sent across the country to mine. I imagine that I’ll go on Friday (the first day I can) and wait in line with my heart beating more and more rapidly as the disgruntled workers help customer after customer and then it’s my turn and the postman returns with this perfect package of sweet, sweet joy and I race to my car and place it on the backseat with the door still open I use my keys to tear at the clear packaging tape and rip into a surprise from my one and only love and I jump with glee and joy as I read his handwritten note professing his undying love and I clamored through my purse for my cell phone to call him to tell him that I feel the same way and that yes, three children would be fine and a dog and a house in the country or the city, whatever, I just want to be with him and we make plans and then we live happily ever after. Whew!

Right, we all know it’s probably some oversized mailing from AOL trying to get me to convert, but geez, I had to fantasize for just a second.

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