The Feds Owe Val Partial Benefits and a Pension

Over the past seven days, Val has done the work of two federal employees. Okay. Being a former STATE employee, I can understand why you're clamoring, "Seriously, Val? How much work could that actually be?" Yes. We all know that government employees have cushy jobs. Not ME, of course, when I was doing it. But everyone else.

Perhaps you recall last Tuesday, when I assisted a befuddled Mail Boy with a parcel delivery. Sure, I refused to actually take custody of the package, and deliver it myself. That was for his own good. You know what they say: "Deliver a package for a Mail Boy, and it gets his job done for a day. Teach him how to deliver a package, and he can do his job until he's old and wizened and beat down by The Man." Or something like that.

Anyhoo... yesterday, I stopped to pick up the mail on the way to town. I was delighted to find my DISH bill on top of the pile of junk mail in EmBee. That meant I could write out a check, and mail it while I was in town, saving a valuable day in the molasses-slow transit of my bill from Backroads, to Palatine, Illinois.

While sitting on T-Hoe's comfy leather seat, I saw the world pass me by. Or at least three vehicles leaving our compound, a big brown UPS truck turning in, and a white USPS Jeep driving by. That last one embedded itself in the back of my mind. Something off about that. OH! Since my mail had already been delivered, WHY was that USPS Jeep going by again? Drove right past Mailbox Row.

Within several minutes, that USPS Jeep was back! Coming from the other direction, across our low-water bridge, headed back towards town. Only NOT! Because it turned onto our gravel road, stopped beside T-Hoe, and waited for me to put my window down.

There was a Mail Girl inside this time. Looking like she'd just turned her tassel and tossed her mortarboard in the air this past May.

"Excuse me...can you help me? Can you tell me where Misty Meadows is?"

"Keep going up this gravel road. It's the first road on the left."

"Does everybody live up there?"

"Uh. I guess so. Everybody on Misty Meadows."

"Do they have mailboxes down here?"

"Yes, I would imagine."

"I don't think I'm supposed to deliver to a house. This is my first day."

"The kid last week said he could go a half-mile, but no more."

"Are you sitting here waiting for a package?"

"No. I'm paying my DISH bill to take to town for mailing."

"I guess I'll pull over by the mailboxes and look for the address. Are you leaving?"

"Yes. Right now. I'll get out of your way."

SHEESH! I'm going to need a cut of those federal paychecks if I'm responsible for getting packages delivered. It's almost like nobody under 50 has any common sense, and needs a job-mommy to hold their hand while they do their job.