Oh December 28th, you are such a downer.
You're not nearly as mysterious as the evening of December 24th, you really aren't as bountiful and delicious as December 25th, and you aren't full of vigorous out-doorsy fun like December 26th.
I'm really sorry but you are just a tad disappointing.
But this year, December 28th, you can rest easy knowing that you aren't nearly as disappointing as the postal service. Internet, I have officially made the postal service and its disgruntled and sticky-fingered employees my arch nemesis. It's never seemed particularly enjoyable to have an arch nemesis, which is why I've avoided one thus far. Imagine all the negative energy exerted just because in order to have an arch nemesis one must, I assume, spend a considerable amount of time chastising this person.
What a depressing waste of time.
But it's unavoidable now. I have a faceless arch nemesis that takes the form of Posties.
And the reason for this unseasonal hatred? Oh, because one of my parent's presents was unwrapped, and also some of the contents of my sister Ais' gift were stolen from her parcel. Merry Christmas! And also, because Meg's gift just never showed up at all. Which, yes, okay, mail getting lost is not exactly ground-breaking, but when these parcels were travelling together, and one gift was unwraped and one parcel had contents removed, it makes me highly suspicious as to the reasons why the other gift just never arrived.
And please, it's not like I was gifting them with exotic plants or firearms or rain forest centipedes. There was no reason these gifts would have been 'confiscated' if that's the official term for lost mail due to thieving employees. These were very basic, very cool, gifts.
I understand that I probably should have tracked the parcels, but you see while the presents themselves were all thoughtful and neat, the cost to track them outweighed the value of the parcels. Because I've never had a problem with mail getting lost before, I just sent the gifts as I always have: snail mail, weeks and weeks and weeks in advance.
So some faceless little Postie now has my sisters' gifts, and yesterday I went out and re-bought Meg's gifts and the part of Ais' that was missing. And tomorrow I try round two of sending out their Christmas presents, except this time I'll probably track them so that if they go missing again I will know exactly which postal office doorstep I have to leave a flaming bag of dog crap on.
Merry Christmas Postie, I hope you like your pilfered goods. I'm sure they'll be of great comfort when you spend eternity working in consumer Boxing Day hell, listening to Madonna's version of Santa Baby on endless repeat while an aggressive old man demands you give him a twenty percent discount on an already discounted $2.00 pack of razor blades.
Too bad those won't come in handy to end your pain.