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suspicions confirmed!

January 30, 2009

Yes, I am indeed missing an issue of Runner’s World!

I tried calling them but kept getting a busy signal, and then had to leave to go get the Lamb from school. As we were driving down our street, we passed the USPS truck driving the other way, so I knew mail had been delivered. As the weather seemed to be taking a downturn (a delicious cold front is on its way, leaving behind cooler temps for my long-ish run tomorrow, 12, maybe 14), I decided to go ahead and get it before it got wet–yes, our mailbox leaks.

What do you know, the March issue of my favorite magazine!

Wait, what happened to February?

Ah, yes. The phantom sorter strikes again!

See, we get random mail all the time–we live on 1234 2nd Street, and regularly get mail for 1234 1st Street and 1234 3rd Street. We also sometimes get mail for 1233 1st Street and 1235 1st Street.*

Now, I don’t to get all complain-y here. I like the US Postal Service. Their flat rate boxes are da bomb, and I certainly fear the day the only way to mark a birthday is to send an electronic greeting–yikes! But, seriously, how hard is it to read a label? Particularly, I have to point out, one that is electronically generated? I mean, this isn’t my neurologist’s garbled handwriting we’re talking about, or my grandmother’s curlycued calligraphy. It’s a neatly typed label affixed firmly on the front of my magazine, clearly addressed in 12-point font. If we can’t deliver this accurately, people, it’s no wonder the system’s failing. It’s not due to the cost of a stamp versus the non-cost of email. It’s not because I have to drive to the post office. It’s not even because a decade ago one of your employees went . . . uh, crazy.

It’s because I’d like to know when something’s in the mail . . . well, that it’s gonna get where it’s going.

*I would just like to say, to all neighbors out there, but particularly mine, that when this happens, the  Boss or I take a walk over to 1st Street, or 3rd Street, or down the street, or across the street, and deliver said mail. Because, as we can clearly see by the label/envelope, it’s not for us. Now, I like to think my neighbors are all similarly inclined, but maybe I’m wrong. At least one of them, presumably, is now training and fueling better. Many happy miles to him. Or her, as the case may be.

**Incidentally, an invitation also arrived today. It arrived enclosed in a lovely envelope from my postmaster that proudly proclaimed “We Care.” You see, my invitation had been damaged in the mail, and the postmaster wanted to assure me that this happens to very few of the 202 billion pieces of mail the USPS handles each year. Well, that’s nice. I’m still waiting for my February issue of RW.

2 Comments leave one →
  1. run4change permalink
    January 31, 2009 9:29 am

    I have actually had that same problem with getting my Runner’s World. I swear they just forget to send it because there is no way the mail people could mess up our adress.

  2. the Zookeeper permalink*
    January 31, 2009 4:12 pm

    Maybe that’s it . . . which reminds me, I got a stack of mail to deliver to our neighbors . . .

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