I like to think that I'm not one of those girls who cries at the drop of a hat. Yeah, I sometimes cry at the end of sad, sappy movies and I've probably become a little misty over a long distance commercial or two. But I would not, in general, classify myself at a crier.
However, had you seen me Friday night, the above statement wouldn't have made any sense. I was driving back from my local UPS service center, and I was in tears. Big, drippy, 8-year old who didn't get her way, salty, wet tears.
I had been anxiously waiting for a package from Amazon. I had been tracking this thing all day, and knew it would be delivered while I wasn't home. This didn't cause me much stress. I've become intimately familiar with UPS' same-day will-call option. I rushed home, went online, typed in my info notice number, and requested to pick the package up that night. I received my confirmation phone call, and arranged my schedule for the evening so I'd be at my UPS will-call appointment at 8pm.
I've done this enough times to know the process: arrive early, sign in, wait for them to find your package, show your ID, sign the little electronic thingie, and off you go. If things ever deviate from this chain of events, it's not a good sign. If your package hasn't been brought to the will-call area, they need to call and track it down. When I saw the UPS guy scan the sign-in list of names, pick up the phone, and ask about the package for Mountain View, my heart sank. There was something up with MY package.
Turns out when my neighborhood UPS driver arrived back at the hub, my package wasn't set aside for will-call, it was put on a conveyor belt that went straight into a storage bin. This particular storage bin must have been ON THE MOON, because there was nothing they could do to get my package that night. I would have to wait until Monday. I was livid. I could barely make eye contact with the guy working will-call, I was so angry. As I stomped away he called after me, "Should they try to redeliver it?" I growled back, "NO. I'll pick it up on Monday." The tears didn't start falling until I was inside my car.
The boyfriend arrived home a few minutes after I did, and when he saw the state I was in he remarked, "That must have been a really important book!"
"It's not a book," I wailed back, "IT'S A CAMERA!"
It's Sunday night, and I've miraculously survived the weekend without my new toy. I made some chocolate Guinness cupcakes with friends on Saturday (expect pictures eventually). Today I went out for coffee and was able to try out a friend's new camera. We also attended the annual BBQ for our apartment building (where I did not knock over an entire plate of pork chops, which I might have done last year). It's been a pretty good weekend despite Friday's disappointing events, but for the first time in a long time I CAN'T WAIT for Monday.