Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Another Pissing Contest Over

First of all, I hate pissing contests. I really do. Life is too short and potentially painful to get worked up over little things. I've been living by the mantra "Don't sweat the small stuff" for some time now, and I'm honestly much happier for it.

With that said, sometimes you get involved in pissing contests that are really out of your control. The most obvious I can think of that I can put in a blog without offending anybody centers around our mailman.

Okay, I'm a teacher. A public school teacher. I'm pro-the little guy, pro-union, pro-it's a dirty job but someone's got to do it so thank you so much for doing everything you do (and under crappy circumstances, too), pro-all those things.

However, I'm also a strong believer in doing the best you can at the job you have. Whether you're a doctor or a people greeter at Wal-Mart or a factory laborer or a car salesman, do the best that you can and be the best you can be. I would always have a lot more respect for a hardworking and honest car mechanic than a lazy, corrupt business executive. In my six and a half years of teaching, I've seen people that I wouldn't allow to teach my dog. It drives me crazy.

But anyway, we live on a cul-de-sac, and the nature of where our house is located on the circle means that the plows empty out in front of our house. We've had ultimate snow banks since December, and it's been a long and icy winter here. For some reason, the mailman decided several weeks ago that it was too much trouble to deliver to our mailbox.

A couple of things here. First, yeah, it's icy. And steep. And it probably isn't a lot of fun to navigate snow banks in a mail truck with an open window. I hear that. I do. What I don't understand, though, is how he was able to deliver mail--in rain and snow and sleet and hail and hard-core snow bankings--until a couple of weeks ago. I mean, it's not like it's gotten higher or bigger. If anything, it's started to melt and would theoretically make his job easier.

Well, Pythagorus has been out there with an ice pick whittling it back, and I've been able to drive my little sedan over it to access the mailbox for a week now. There's just been nothing in the mailbox. Pythagorus then has to go the post office and put a hold on our mail so the mailman doesn't take it just to not deliver it, then he'll take the hold off because he assumes that if a little hatchback can manage braving the snow bank, then of course a post office truck can. Nope. It was actually really annoying at first, but now we're just laughing about it.

Anyway, we haven't gotten mail all week, although there's no reason in the world the mailman couldn't deliver it beyond the pissing contest he's for some reason created. I guess he decided to throw in the towel, though, because Belle's home sick today, and I just watched him deliver mail.

The snow banks are no less high today than they were yesterday, but I guess he decided to let it go. I'm glad he did. Going to the post office is kind of an inconvenience. But I still wonder why it came to that at all ...

3 comments:

  1. Mail people are a passive-aggressive sort, I think. I had one who would mace my dog in the face if my dog happened to be sleeping on the front porch when it was time to deliver the mail. Oh, never mind that my dog was 16 years old, blind, and SLEEPING when he was fumigated. Jerk.

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  2. Wow, despite the fact that I'm not a dog person (yes, cat person), I'd be tearing the mailperson a new one if they treated my pet that way. Actually, we'd have to go to the hospital to get my foot out of ..... nevermind, temper getting out of hand when I think of people being mean to animals. Anyway, glad to hear they're delivering mail again (KLo). Stay warm.

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  3. Glad to hear they are delivering mail again...Very strange. I grasp the concept that if your mailbox was impossible to get too they don't have to stop, however my mailman walks to our door to deliver the mail because the mailbox is on our side of the house, so I'm sure even if he couldn't drive on top of your mailbox to just reach his feeble arm out, he could possible open the door and walk to the mailbox. That's their job after all.

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