In Suburbia I almost never had to go to the Post Office. The only time a trip there was necessary was when I was sending off a package to a friend, or selling a used book on Amazon. Mail and packages were delivered directly to the house, and all that was required was to open the front door and reach over to the mailbox.
In the country however, we do not have door to door delivery. The town is too small to deal with such nonsense I suppose, so everyone has a PO box and in order to actually get your mail, you have to physically drive or walk to the post office. Not terribly inconvenient, though it does require keeping your days and hours straight. There’s been a few Saturdays where I putz around the house too long before realizing that the Post Office is closed for the day…and I’ll have to wait to check it on Monday.
And then there’s the lunch break. For a solid hour, the post office is open but the window is closed tight. And, as Thursday and Fridays are the only two days I’m actually home to go to the post office I can never seem to remember what that hour is.
Today I decided to go check the mail. We hadn’t checked it yesterday and I was expecting a package. I thought about going at noon time, but figured that if the package had come the window would be closed and I’d just have to go back. So I poured myself another cup of coffee and wittled away another hour on the computer. At a little after one I left to run my errands. Got to the post office and realized…oh crap, the window is closed. And yes, the package was waiting for me.
Thinking now, holding lunch 1-2 makes much more sense. Less traffic then at noon time when people are coming in to get the mail on lunch breaks. Duh.
So, I had to make a return trip after all.