If you read the post below, from yesterday, you will remember that I received a parcel notice (if you haven't read it yet, do it now, so you don't think I am crazy. Or maybe you still will come to that conclusion, but I am OK with that). After I finished that post, I took a fast-paced stroll, in my pajamas, down the drive, headed for the post office. The entire 3 block journey was filled with visions of furry Ewoks climbing out of a giant cardboard box, arms open wide, ready to accept their new Earth-guardian into their cute little lives, and hungry for a fire-side pig roasting in the woods of BC, or in my apartment. Cause I don't have a car. I'm not so sure that an Ewok wants his first experience on Earth to be using the public transportation system, or trying desperately to hold on to my handlebars in the freezing cold, trying to get to a wooded area. Anyways, I ended up waiting in line for well over 20 minutes, peering into the back room looking for a box with holes in it, maybe something with the letter "z", which could only mean me. The holiday season is not the best time to go to the post office, everyone and their crackhead friend is there, hoping to send a package to the States, or quietly wishing for that fictional creature they always wanted. There was even a fight, between two seemingly respectable older women, one with her grandson. The eldest, was upset the woman behind her was standing so close to her and wished she would "give her a little breathing room." She continued on down the counter, explaining to her grandson, as she licked a placed her stamps on outgoing holiday greeting cards, that some people in the world are just plain rude, and he will have to live his life running into people such as this woman, who stood too close. Remarkable advice, I only wish someone would have told me that when I was 8 years old. It could have saved me a lot of trouble and maybe I would have turned out to be a better person because of it. The woman who stood too close apologized, trying to explain that because there were about 30 others waiting in these tight quarters, that she was simply trying to create space for the crowd. And then she followed with, and this surprised me, "Well if you would like to take it outside, I will be done here in 5 minutes." Whhaa? I did a double-take, I think the whole place did. I wanted to see this fight! But unfortunately the crackhead standing behind me was making such a racket with her twitching body, running into the envelopes and stomping her feet, that I compeltely forget about the fight, so I don't know what happened after that. The crackhead distracted me with her annoying as hell habits and nervous behaviour. But I love that shit, I do, so I couldn't take my eyes off her. After awhile I had completely forgotten that I might be the proud parent of a new Ewok and started getting upset because this nervous nail-biting woman was beginning to invade my personal space. I thought I was going to have to take her outside for a little fight club action… The rest of my tale isn't even worth talking about because my dreams were shattered when I finally got to the counter, the adventures in line at the post office was basically the best part of my day. I handed the man my parcel notice and identification, he recognizes the "z" name and reaches for a very small, blue box and says, "here ya go." At that very moment I knew exactly what is was and thought to myself, "Jeez, I am retarded." After hours of contemplation over what the hell this package could possibly be, I remember at that very moment that I had ordered a new set of cheques. CHEQUES! My postman left me a parcel notice, hanging on my doorknob, telling me of the most boring piece of mail I have ever had the priveledge of receiving. Coupons to the grocery store I have never heard of are more exciting. I wonder if the Endor Animal Exporting (EAE) company takes cheques?