Stuck

I was dropping a letter off at the mail-box this morning. No, that's not the exciting part. Even though I live in a house, my whole block shares a mail-box area so there's a public outbox. So as I dropped my letter off, I reached my hand in a little so that I could push the envelope past the lip so that there was no way anyone could pull it back out (I was a little paranoid because it's an important letter) and that was when I tried to pull my hand back out, then realized that my ring was caught. My hand was stuck in the mailbox! I couldn't pull my hand too hard because my ring would dig into my skin, or slip off and then I'd lose it. And I'm sitting there with my hand stuck in the mailbox thinking, 'What do I do? I can't wait for the mail lady to come so that she can open the box and help me. She comes at like, 11:30 and it's only 7:30. ...I hope no one comes by and sees me like this!' After more gentle tugging, wiggling, and whining, I finally turned my hand and was able to pull it out sideways, and sighing in relief, I walked home.

I was telling Veronica about getting stuck and laughing with her. We came up with the scenario where I was really stuck and what I would do when people came by. It devolved to my having to pretend that I wasn't stuck but was guarding my letter. "You look suspiscious!" I would say to the passers-by, "Move along! I'm guarding the mail. I'm a guard dog, bark! Bark, bark!"

And then that spawned the thought that our neighbors would then cross the street to avoid our house when passing by because of the weirdo that lives here. And here we talked about doing the invisible rope gag just to cement our psycho reputation. And just in case you don't know what I'm talking about, here, watch this.

I find myself wondering if the owner of the house would have rented to me if he'd known anything about me at all. ~Laughs~