The Femail Man

Sometimes I fear that since I so infrequently check my mail box that the femail man will someday call the cops to do a welfare check at my house.

Yesterday was a mental break day for me, Tuesday found me scrambling to completed a major report for work and today I have an exam at school. Yesterday was all about gym shorts and un-washed hair. Just one of those days where you spend hours going up every isle at Über Target throwing crap you’re your cart you’d never buy unless under the influence of the man fumes coming from your dirty T-shirt.

“Wow, they’re paper towels… but in a box!”

It wasn’t until late afternoon that I came to my senses and really started my day. This is when I was greeted by a month’s worth of mail at the mail box. And also Ted. Ted is a neighbor that would find fault in toast. The type of person that actually posts on Facebook or Twitter about how he doesn’t like any new formatting changes. “God, I hate the new Facebook blah, blah, blah” It was his anger over the femail man not lining up his mail that made me realize that I was in an exceedingly great mood. I guess the whole “recharge your batteries” thing, actually works.

Today I have paper towels in a box and my mail out of my box. I also feel ready to take exams at school and generally re-join the world.