most people know that in order to run away from Australia 2 months from now, ive been saving saving saving my butt off since the beginning of the year. Anyway, one of my many jobs is delivering newspapers around longueville.
sounds easy right?
WRONG. because it just so happens that im not the only one who delivers newspapers in longueville.
i swear, my suburb must be the capital of all junk-mail.
because EVERY SINGLE MAILBOX is stuffed full TO THE BRIM of target catalogues, letters from MLC, copies of the northside courier, whatever whatever whatever.
so full that i spend most of my days trying to wrestle my lovingly rolled, elastic-banded and plastic-bagged north shore times' into peoples mailboxes.
so it doesnt help when the mailbox IS ALREADY TINY TO BEGIN WITH.
i mean come on.
its not that hard.
if you get alot of mail...GET A BIGGER MAILBOX!!
like take today for example: i just happened to be the unfortunate victim whos delivery pushed what must be the worlds tiniest mailbox over its capacity.
and let me tell you, the results werent pretty: this mailbox practically exploded all over the street.
i mean it. there are catalogues flying, letters falling all over the sidewalk, oh, and just incase the whole ordeal wasnt embarassing enough, the top of the mailbox actually flew into the air, and then proceeded to tumble down the neighbours driveway, making more noise than the first 15 minutes of Terminator 3.
oh, and this just happened to occur during the hour that EVERY SINGLE OLD PERSON LIVING IN LONGUEVILLE goes on their daily walk.
so im standing there, covered in what used to be a mailbox, with a north shore times in my hand and twenty six million pensioners pointing and laughing at me.
oh. it was so fun.
oh no wait, IT WASNT.
so im sorry. really i am.
but if you have a small mailbox, we can no longer be friends.