elle.em.cee.

I think our mail delivery person is drunk.

Constantly.

That’s the only explanation I can come up with for why he/she delivers the wrong mail so often. But this time? This time takes the cake.

This time, Drunk Mail Person didn’t just deliver someone else’s bill that slipped in with ours. Or a greeting card in which someone wrote a “1” that looks like a “7” in the address line. Or a handful of junk mail that nobody wants anyway. This time, it was a much more egregious error.

Behold:

That, my friends, is an international package that is nearly as tall as I am. It was shipped straight from the airport. Its declared value is over $200. It required a signature for delivery. HOW did it end up in my foyer?

More importantly, how do I get it to the rightful owner’s foyer? I would make USPS come get it, but, well, that’s what kind of got us into this mess to begin with. So I guess I’m turning into the Package Fairy (there’s a gay porn joke in there somewhere) and leaving a note for the owner to come pick it up himself.