The 75-year-old guy who works alone at our tiny post office informed me a few days ago that I had to change my post office box because it had actually closed over a year and a half ago and he had neglected to tell me about it during this time because “there were just too many people coming and going.” It’s maybe not completely his fault because I neglected to fill out the form saying that we were still using the box…but damn, I wish we had known that my neglect was going to get us fucked like this, and when I called USPS for some kind of explanation they told me that our post office box was too big and that we never should have had it anyway (we’ve had it for eight years). The old guy at the post office told me we could rent it for, like, $200 a year. Totally bizarre. So now we have to change the shipping information for all the fucking companies that still insist on sending us paper mail.

We also get other people’s mail now all the time. I thought it was grandpa’s fault but I guess it’s a regular thing based on the comments here. What’s also kind of strange is that I went to that guy’s house for my job and it’s a huge fucking gorgeous house in the middle of the woods. Why is he working at this post office? Why isn’t he retired?