2020's Diary of an E-Bay Package

 I'm not one to want to sit around for long.  I like to go-go-go.  And, I like to know where I'm going and when I will arrive.  It's how I roll.

So, December was quite a troubling month for me.  

Destination:  Sorrento Florida

12.9.20  I'm in a dark place.  Wait.  It's a mailbox.  Cumberland, Maryland.  Looks like I be doin' some traveling this Christmas.  Can't wait to get there.   I'm wearing my Sunday best and riding USPS Priority Mail.   Woo Hoo!  Sunshine state, here I come!

12.10.20  Pick up.  On my way.

12.15.20  Whew!  That was a long ride, and with so many stops.  My place of deliverance:  USPS Facility in Baltimore, Maryland.  I'm being processed.  Guess I'm getting old, cause these trips are wearing on me.   

12.16.20  I am departing the Baltimore, Maryland facility.  On my way.... 

12.16.20  I'm now in Hyattsville, Md.  It's taking a lot longer to get there than I thought it would.  I was thinking 3 days max, but I guess traffic is heavy.

12.30.20  Someone must've slipped me a mickey.  Last I remember I was being processed in Hyattsville, Md.  I am now in Merrifield, Va.  and I'm being processed once again.  I feel violated.  

12.31.20  Another road trip.  This time I'm in a USPS Facility in District Heights, Md.  Confusion is setting in.  I'm road-weary.

12.31.30  Wait!  So I'm departing from the Merrifield Va facility again.  How'd that happen?  

12.31.20  I'm back in Hyattsville, Maryland.  Say what? Ain't no wonder I'm feeling lightheaded.  I'm going in circles.

1.7.21  I've been weeks on the road and I'm visiting the same places over and over again.  I am back at District Heights, Md. ...  Feels like Groundhog Day.  Or Twilight Zone.  Willoughby.  Next stop, Willoughby.

Almost a month on the road, with no end in sight....

~~FADE TO GRAY~~  

Junk Mail

 I could never understand why people get so upset about getting junk mail....

Till one day...

I got a deep paper cut from one of the useless & manipulative pieces of waste found in my mailbox.

Of course, not all mail is junk mail.   Anything with Amazon packing tape means something I want is inside.

Then there is the organizations that want money.

Here is what I have found happens when people donate to charities:

The organizations want MORE>MORE>MORE!!!

The following piece of mail that we received today, gave me pause.

Now why in the world wouldn't this organization give that dollar to the troops instead of sending it to those who they are hoping will send money to the troops?  Must we continually manipulate to get results?

Why would the fact that they send me a dollar make me want to send them $25?

Does money really motivate people to that extent?

Which brings me to my final piece of mail that I would like to share with you today.

Here's how our office works:

We do hearing tests.  We sell hearing aids.  We counsel.  We listen.  We teach.  We exchange.  We counsel some more.  And in the end, if our customer is not satisfied, we give them a full refund.  Every once in a while we get burned out with a customer after going over and over and over everything....  but we smile and soldier on....  and in the end, if they return their hearing aids in spite of our efforts, we suck it up and tell them we are sorry we couldn't help them.

Well, this guy wanted help for his elderly mother and she was...  shall we say... a true challenge.  I did all of the above and in the end, she wanted to return them.

"Please take this $100 for all your work..."  her son said.
Of course, I refused...   But it was kind of him to offer.

A couple of days later I got some good mail from that same guy:

A card with kind words....  Worth so much more that a hundred dollar bill!!!

What is the silliest junk mail you've ever received?


Dear Diary,

T.R.O.U.B.L.E. awaited me the other night under the covers where I was NOT ALLOWED!
I was:

Tortured through whiny words of disrespect.
Read the riot act
Ousted from my safe spot
Under the covers without permission
Beat with a belt.  I lie.
Loved in spite of my transgression.  Yep.
Entagled in covers that I couldn't get out of.  Really. I didn't mean to get under the covers.  They got on top of me.