Freitag, 24. Oktober 2008

My windmills are mailboxes

If I was the modernised version, including planed obsolence, of Don Quixote my daily fights and battles with my mailbox would fit the picture quite nicely.

Sure, my biggest windmill (read: dragon-slash-enemy, or dragon/enemy/archenemy/villian) would be myself or at least my lazyness - wich still is myself but afterwards and "right around the corner" (wich I guess makes no sense to say in english in this context) would be my mailbox.

When I enter and when I leave my house I have to go past the mailboxes for our house. 38 Appartments. 38 tiny Mailboxes.

Usualy I treat the mailbox like an average man/woman on the street. I look on the floor and ignore it(him/her) as best as I can, eventhough I am of course selfaware that looking on the floor on purpose is not ignoring, but thats a diffrent story.

So I walk past my dragon-breath breathing mailbox everyday at least twice.

When I leave my house and when I come back. Sure I dont realy need to ignore the mailbox while leaving. Carring a lot, I mean A LOT, of paperwork, advertisement-crap and what have you to the libary, then the supermarket and then the store where you can buy cigarettes makes no sense. But, then the dreaded moment comes when I come back.

One more thing:
My mailbox is one of many, as already said. It has tiny slots so you can see from the outside if there is post in it or not. I hate those slots.

Two scenarios when coming home:
Scenario one: I was so foolish to belive I dont have to ignore the mailbox when leaving my house this happens: As usual I stare at the floor while passing by and my counciousness rings like an alarm bell. "Have you forgotten how full that mailbox is, common Matthias. OPEN IT FOR THE SAKE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY AND GOOD!"

I feel like crap and still dont do it.

Second scenario:
I wasnt foolish enough to look at the mailbox when leaving and dont do it when coming home. My counciousness still rings. "Just look for a short moment - and if it is realy realy full, open it and empty it." I feel like crap too, and still do nothing.

Anyway - what I realy wanted to say: Death to the person that invented the mailbox!

2 Kommentare:

hi. i'm callie hat gesagt…

when i send you your package of amazing-ness, i'll make sure it's too big to fit in your mailbox so you don't have to go there and open the damned thing.

yaffle hat gesagt…

You should convert your mailbox into a tiny incinerator, then you need never worry again! also, the mailman could use it to to roast sausages.

I want to be the Sancho Panza to your Don Quixote.