Going Postal

I have come to the realization that there has to be some sort of shift in my life.  

I had this realization when I was driving to one of my five jobs last Friday after my talking-on-the-phone-while-in-the-car-cry-fest with Z.  

I have no time! I've only written one blog this whole month. And don't even think I've had a second to work on my second book! I feel too pulled in a million different directions and too tired since I've been waking up at 5:45 to work out for NO REASON/ NO RESULTS. I would KILL someone for a day off. Okay, not KILL but HIT IN THE FACE for sures. And I mean a whole day off from working-out, cleaning the house, washing dishes, walking the dog, cooking, showering etc.

I know this is life but this is not the life I want. Something's gotta give, man.

And I know this is the truth and not me just being a baby because I got this little gem from my mailman.

WTF USPS???

Okay, not the mustache card that is so cleverly hiding our address but this "Your Mailbox Needs Attention" bullshit. Have you ever seen anything like this before??  It's like when we used to get pink slips from teachers in grade school. You know the ones where you had to give the pink slip to your mom and she would sign them to show that she read them and then you had to bring it back to your teacher so that your teacher knew that your mom now knew that you had a big mouth and was talking during reading time? Yeah - it's kinda like that, but for grow-ups. And now I feel bad.

I just got pink-slipped by my mother f-ing mailman.  Geez. I'm sorry I couldn't add frickin' YARD WORK to my list of things there, sir.

Two things here:
1.  You spelled Bougainvillea wrong. Ugh. (enter eye-roll here)
2. Are you a doctor or a mailman because I can barely read your writing.

I mean - give me a break Mr. Mailman. You are going to "Stop Delivery Service" "ASAP" if I don't trim the Bougainvillea right this very second. Wow, you're acting a tad bitchy/bossy for someone in public service, buddy.

So, of course, I get the pruning sheers out and trim the bush that supposedly "almost took out his eye".  What a drama queen. But the United States Postal Service is full of them, hence the whole term - going postal - you know?

So now I think my mail man must think we are some crack heads living in our crack head house with our crack head flower bushes. And he did have a little point because that hot-pink bush was getting outta hand, but DO NOT disrespect me with the USPS version of the pink slip, okay.

Wanna know why?

Neither, Sucka....

It looks like this!!!!