I went 'postal' today...literally!

Before we get into this long post, let me admit to a few traits I'm not entirely proud of. This may help you understand this post a little better.

#1 - I am impatient
#2 - I am slightly obsessive
#3 - I can go YEARS without something bugging and then all of the sudden - CRASH!
#4 - I do not like to shop in dirty 'feeling' places
#5 - I do not like when people don't do their job properly
#6 - I like nice things, but I don't like people to 'oooh' and 'ahhhh' over them
#7 - I have eaten an entire box of Captain Crunch Berries in 2 days, by myself (sure, it has nothing to do with the rest of this post, but still startling!)

Okay, moving on. It started yesterday, when I decided to mail something to my friend, Tawni. Simple enough. Signed, sealed...NOT DELIVERED. I live in an older neighborhood and the mailman still walks the mail from house to house. That is mainly because NO ONE has curb side mailboxes. It's convenient, I suppose, assuming your mail carrier is competent. Mine, however, has not been. Let me post a picture of my mailbox (I'm assuming it's quite dated, but I have no idea, since they still make these ugly things.). See #3 for this flaw.

Besides the added bonus of the newspaper hooks ('news' to me, actually), notice anything missing? There is no flag on these mailboxes. For two days straight now, my mailman has put incoming mail in, but not taken my outgoing letter. GROWL! (Flaw #1, #5) This infuriated me, so I asked around. 3 people told me to put my mail on the outside with a clothespin. Last I checked (which was yesterday!), mail doesn't fair too well in rain/snow. In the past, I've simply propped my letter up, so that it lifted the lid some. Unfortunately, it gets wet that way too. So, there it is, my HUNT begins. I look online at Home Depot and Lowes for a new mailbox with a flag. There's only one house-mount one and it is $70 and locks. I doubt my mailman is willing to unlock and re-lock my mailbox, if he's too lazy to look inside.
I decide to take my letter directly to the post office (as my father has done his whole life) and was pleased to find it still open. Tawni, I hope you get it! I went in to ask about what I could do to get my mail picked up properly (Flaw #2). Without complaining, I simply questioned the best route to take. The man actually suggested me putting a note on the mailbox. What the heck is wrong with these people!? (Flaw #5) It's not me who makes the mailman come to my door, so it shouldn't be me who suffers for such traditions. I'm totally open to a curb side or even group box. Just do your job! I left my name, address and phone number with some manager at the post office, but left with little faith of anything coming of it.
I then went to a thrift store (Flaw #2, #4) near my house to see if they had a used mailbox that I could just yank the flag off of and attach to mine. It was less than fabulous. In fact, if I hadn't been so frustrated, I would've never shopped there. My brother-in-law (who has less qualms about thrift stores than I), finds lots of used cook books and things there, which is the only reason I went there to begin with. None the less, no mailbox to be found. I browsed over in the kids shoe section, since I've been desperately trying to find Mason a pair of snow boots. It's been a surprisingly ridiculous task (#2). Of course, there was a pair, since I was thinking the place was awful and sleazy. They were in great condition, so I decided to buy them. They were marked $3.99 and I asked the woman if she took debit cards. 'For purchases over $5, we do." And then, she practically belts out 'Damn, look at the size of your ring!'. Are you kidding me, I think to myself. I politely say 'Thanks, I like it.'. (What else am I really supposed to say to that?) I continue searching through my purse for cash, knowing I don't have any. 'How much is the total?', I ask, changing the subject. She proceeds to gawk at my ring and ask me how many carats total weight it is (#6,#5). Again, I sheepishly reply to her 'I'm not sure.' This is actually the total truth, but she wasn't buying it. 'Oh come on, honey, you can tell me.', she says. Then she does that redneck whistle that sounds like 'woooo woooo' and states 'He must really like you!'. Again, I thank her and ask about the boots (#1). She tells me they are on sale and the total is $2.19. For once in my life, I wished I could just ask for full price + extra, just to get me the heck out of there. She finally tells me checks are accepted. I write the check and bolt for the door. She wasn't 'white trash' at all, but if my house gets robbed anytime soon, you know it was for my stinkin' ring!
I bet you've forgotten about the mailbox thing now, huh? Not me, no way! I haul Mason and myself down to Lowes and search the mailbox section for any hope of something to use. I'm talking to a friend on the phone during some of this ordeal and he's mocking me terribly. Telling me that not only am I looking for something that doesn't exist, I'm going to spend way more money trying to find it than just having Josh make me a fake flag out of sheet metal. 'You can even paint it red, if it makes you feel better', he laughs. This only makes me more determined. People have to break mail box flags. They just aren't that high quality of an item. Are we really expected to buy an entirely new mailbox if the flag breaks? Mind you, I had talked to 3 men about this today, including my friend, husband and father. No one had an answer for me. Luckily, I was still on the phone with my snickering, brotherly-like friend when I found this and OH, DID I GLOAT!


Yes, it's ugly and no, I don't care. It cost me $3.75 and it made my day! I will jimmy-rig it to fit my stupid mailbox and be thrilled about it! My mail carrier will think I'm a nut case and I don't even care! Here is a picture of Mason, which I have since determined is him telling the mail carrier where he can shove the flag (in a French accent, due to his crinkly face).