Wait a Minute, Mr. Postman (Part 1)

“I hate waiting.” ~ Inigo Montoya, Spanish swordsman extraordinaire, The Princess Bride

I hate waiting, too. But I didn’t realize how much until this week.

Friday of the week prior, I ordered an item from an online store, to be delivered to my office. “It’ll go out Monday, so you should have it by the end of next week,” the phone rep told me. I was OK with that, and when it arrived on Wednesday instead, I was thrilled. Two days later, also a Friday, I ordered another item from the same store. This item was extremely special. “By the end of next week,” the phone rep repeated. Next Wednesday will be perfect, I smiled to myself.

Next Wednesday came, but the package didn’t.

No problem, I thought. Tomorrow’s my birthday, so that’s even better.

On Thursday my birthday came, but without my package.

OK, they did tell me Friday. I got lucky last week.

On Friday I waited all day with an expectant smile that was never cast upon my package. I was forced to wait the weekend.

“I really hate it,” I heartily agreed with Mr. Montoya.

By the next Thursday, after I checked my office mail slot for the 48th time, my calm demeanor was tossed out like junk mail. While others pace, I stomped. While they fret, I fussed and fumed like a worn-out steam engine about to blow. Where is it, where is it?! I hollered over and over inside my head. But when I became Gollum and topped off my silent rantings with a shriek of, “My Preciousssssss!” I knew I’d lost it completely.

And as of this last Friday, my package is still not here.

What’s in this package? What’s this thing that’s transformed me from a man of dignity into a mouse of desolation?

Sorry, you’ll just have to wait . . .