Snail Mail

Crazy Lady Hormones

I have a parcel collection at a location close to home for when I have deliveries bigger than my letterbox. It’s at a Post Office inside a Chemist. I walk in and by the time I get to the counter for the post office they have seen me and located my parcel and it is waiting on the counter. How? You know what I’m saying?

The woman behind the counter has my parcel on the counter ready for me to take it. Service! Right? Or I get a lot of parcels and they just need the room for whatever will arrive fresh each day. I prefer the first option, that they just provide good service.

I have a tendency to tell them what I’m getting to amuse them and brighten their day a bit. The plague made snail mail (post office’s) as busy as Christmas season.

So, a few weeks ago I scoop up my parcel announcing “It’s my Crazy Lady Hormones!” from Queensland. I only ordered these Thursday, they were there the following day and I got to scoop them up the following Monday. I can see how they must have bigger parcels sit there longer to collect, hence the swift moving to the counter for me to collect.

Upon the look I received from the older woman, who I imagine thinks I’m too young for crazy lady hormone dramas, I announce “Yes! Got the hot flushes!” As she’s older than I am I enquire “when do they end?” Secretly hoping she doesn’t say something that kills my soul. Then she announces, “Helen I’m 64 and I’ve still got the hot flushes.