Wednesday, 3 March 2010

The Anguish of Home Deliveries

I get the books I order delivered to my home address for two reasons: a) because there's always the chance of a book I've ordered turning up at the weekend, and I hate the thought of it not being delivered because I've had it sent to my work address instead; and b) because I can't be arsed to change my delivery address. But this does give rise to a certain anguish when a book I've ordered doesn't turn up when I expect it to.

For instance, at the moment I'm fretting over one (and possibly two) packages. One of them I got an email notification on Friday that it had shipped... but today is Wednesday and it still hasn't arrived. I think the package will be too big for the letter box, and I'm at work, so it'll probably go back to the delivery office and I'll have to go and pick it up. But what if the postie just leaves it outside, and someone nicks it? Or what if someone else throws away the delivery card? Or what if it just goes mysteriously awry?

I expect it'll be fine. I can't do anything about it now anyway. But still. These thoughts prey on my mind.

So the questions is... do I need psychiatric help?

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