Today will be the 5th, maybe the 6th, day in a row I’ve gone to the Post Office. This time of year that should qualify me for some kind of iron man award. It’s not just Christmas cards and packages, it’s those plus paperwork on the home sale, on moving here stuff still not wrapped up, like auto insurance certifications. Everybody these days wants signed, often notarized, original documents, mailed certified mail. It seems since 9/11, and since the thieves and scammers started their wholesale attack on honest folks, the few bad apples have made everything more difficult for all of us.
Fortunately there is a small P.O. nearby, not a Postal counter in the local pharmacy like we had before, but at least it’s not too far from home.
Today we’ll be having some stuff notarized and then I’ll be going to the P.O. again, and mailing some more cards as well. The new here is that last night Wife found the missing Christmas cards, after we’d bought more just two days ago. They were, ahem, about four feet from my desk, in a box clearly marked “cards” in which I’d assumed was desk files. Duh.