I have pretty low expectations for service these days. I mean, for the most part, I expect to receive less than stellar service wherever I go. I keep my standards low so I’m never disappointed and only pleasantly surprised when something goes well. Oh, who am I kidding? I am always disappointed.

But this took it to a whole new level for me.

And since I have already vented about it to both my hubby and Lisa, and I am still not over it, I am taking it to the blog.

That is just how I roll.

My rant involves the United States Postal Service, an organization that has seen their fair share of mockery through the years. We already know they are broke, so further criticizing them will probably not help their cause, but COME ON PEOPLE.

I happened to be sitting at my computer when our mail was delivered on Saturday. I knew it had been delivered because the little mail truck drove directly in front of my “office” (totally my dining room) window. So imagine my surprise when I found a slip tucked between our light bill and my latest issue of Entertainment Weekly.

It was a package delivery notice saying that the package could not be delivered because it required a signature and no one was home.

SAY WHAT?

I was not only totally home but completely willing AND able to sign for the package (i.e. not showering or playing my 87th round of Candy Crush that day). I was never even given the chance to sign for the package!

To make matters worse, this is one of those final notice kind of deals where you have to go to the actual post office to pick up your package.

I have to haul both my children to the post office (yeah, yeah, yeah, I am a total slacker and didn’t go during the school day) after school because my mail lady could not bother to walk the 50 feet to my front door on Saturday. Which, last time I checked, is part of her ACTUAL job.

So either my mail lady has decided getting out of the truck is optional on Saturdays, or she *really* didn’t like the Golden Corral coupon I slipped her as a holiday gift.