It's weird, I know, but I kind of wish my first child could arrive this way. When I'm expecting something in the mail I check our box religiously. Despite the fact that I know we live one hundred meters from the post office and despite the fact that I know this means we're the last stop on the Postwoman's route every.single.day., I still refuse to check our mail no less than three times a day. No joke. Once in the morning in case the mail lady decides to spice up her life and drive the route backwards. Once around noon in case nobody within a forty mile vicinity receives a single letter and the route is finished early. And once around six when, on most days, the mail actually arrives. I realize the post office is supposed to close at five, so please don't ask me why our mail comes at six.
Lately I've been expecting good things in the mail. When I ordered my business cards a few weeks ago I could hardly handle the thought of a two week wait to get them. The lovely ladies at Invited Ink relayed that the cards would be mailed within ten days of my order. Translation? My three time a day mailbox routine began roughly four days after submitting my order. Just in case.
When the doorbell rang today I leaped from my desk and bolted to the door where I could only dream of what would be waiting. Much to my excitement was a perfect brown parcel from Pleasanton, California holding none other than two hundred and fifty letterpress business cards on 650gsm soft white paper.
My mother assures me that the birthing process is a beautiful thing, but judging by how excited I am to get things in the mail, I just think I would be equally as thrilled to receive my child from the nice Postwoman at our front door.
...Is that morbid?
Have a wonderful Monday,
Michelle