My adventure with the U.S. Postal Service...

This is a mostly wordy post, so I'll start you off with the picture and hope you stick around for the story:

J and I finished our Christmas cards last night (notes and labeling), so I set out this morning to mail them before going in to work.  My morning went something like this:

8:45--Prep the cards for taking to the post office (stacked and tied with a festive bow...yes, I'm serious).  Decide I won't go to my local shipping center/post office because I need to mail one overseas (Hi Jess!) and also need to pick up a small flat rate box for my brother's (and his family's) gifts.  My local shipping guy would do well with most of the cards, but would send me next door for the international/flat rate part of the job, and that post office never fails to tick me off--especially this time of year.

8:50--Run to the bathroom to brush my teeth before leaving.  Ram my knuckle (the left pinky that's still slowly healing from last week's fall) into the sink faucet.  Curse.  Blink back tears.  Pull it together and brush teeth.

9:00--Finally leave the house, cards tucked lovingly in my arms. Toss them in the passenger seat.

9:02--Apparently forget all about the cards and head out of our neighborhood toward work.

9:05--Remember the cards.  Curse again.  Consider turning right at the next major intersection to go to a large post office.  Decide it will be packed and decide to go to the small, never busy post office near work.

9:07--Consider again the large post office, which could be reached quickly by backstreets if I turn right at the next intersection.  Decide I'm committed to the small post office near work.

9:10--Drive past the church, continue on to the small post office.

9:13--Walk into the small post office, where I'm greeted by a long line of people and only one clerk.  Curse.  Wait in line for ten minutes.  Finally reach the front of the line. Learn that the stamps I want are out of stock.  Wait several minutes for clerk to confirm that in the back.  Avoid angry glares from other customers.  Informed I can get those at the large post office I passed up.  Curse under breath.  Decide to go ahead and purchase the international stamp and flat rate box.  Am informed that I can't pay for the flat rate box because I might overfill it and it will cost more.  Give clerk puzzled look at my apparent complete misunderstanding of the whole "Flat Rate" concept.  Run my card for 98 cents.

9:31--Back to my car with my stack of cards and a flat rate box.  Drive back past work on my way to the large post office. 

9:37--Arrive at large post office.  Walk in to find no line and two clerks ready to serve.  Curse again, this time with a snide laugh.  Purchase my preferred stamps.  Stick them on my cards.  Mail cards.

9:45--Back to my car.

9:55--Actually arrive at work.  Blow up at choir director, who mistakenly asks if my cards are out yet.  Try to make it sound funny.  Realize it actually kind of is.