Al & I were out of town this past weekend and no one picked up our mail on Friday (which included Thanksgiving day) or Saturday. On Sunday, AJ opened our box to find a curt notice saying that the postman had stopped delivery on our mail because our box was full and that we should pick up our mail ASAP or it would be "returned to sender". So this afternoon I went by the mail warehouse, used the secret knock to get into the place (911 paranoia) and was greeted by a snippy 20 something postal worker. After a very stern lecture on stopping mail service when I leave town, I was told to wait and the half door was closed in my face. Several minutes later, postal worker returned, handed me my mail and said in her cranky shaming voice, "that's a lot of mail". Dah! That's why it wouldn't fit in the mail box. So I get a lot of mail... sue me! Anyway, I juggled my stack of catalogs, magazines, bills and flyers into the car and headed home wondering all the while why it's called "going postal" when someone goes crazy in a public place.
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