Hot Wheels
It's Monday and I actually have time to sit at work to blog... The new software build is still not ready for QA. The whole process started on 9am Friday. Can you believe it? This is what happens when your company is greedy and tries to sell as many software licenses to the client as possible. End result... unmanageable NASTY software to deal with by the developers.
Anyway... I'm going to just enjoy the down time today since I haven't had any for quite a long time... hence... no new postings.
I strongly believe that we all relive our childhood experiences as adults. For the most part, we don't realize it, but we do subconsciously.
I stood in line at a post office with an Easter care package for an hour two weeks ago, while I watched others simply dropped them off in one of those drop-off bins. I kept on staring at the bin, wanting to approach it to drop-off my already fully postaged and addressed package, but something in me just kept me from walking 10 feet over.
In my head, I kept on making up excuses like, "Oh, that bin is only for 'special' packages and the line is moving anyway". I even started to do a countdown in my head. "Just another 15 minutes." Those "15 minutes" ended up being an hour.
When I reached the counter, I handed the package to the postal worker and told him, "I have $8.96 in total for the postage. I added one cent extra, just in case." He stared at the package then back at me with a semi-weird expression and continued to enter it into the system that I had paid $8.96 and then postmarked it for delivery.
When I saw him postmark the stamps on the box and dropped the box off into the sorting bin, I felt relieved. I took my receipt and headed back to the office feeling assured that the package was going to be delivered.
This is not the only compulsion that I have with our reliable (whatever) postal services. Whenever I mail a letter at one of those R2D2 tin boxes on the street corner, I tend to have to open and re-open the chute cover three times for good measure; as if the letter knew how to climb back out of the tin box. I noticed this compulsion early on, but never did anything about it because I tend to handle most bills electronically now; of course, until now that I moved into my studio.
For the past year I've been sending out my check at my building's street corner tin box to pay my maintenance charges on a monthly basis. At the beginning of each month I would have a fit with R2D2. Opening, closing, opening, closing, opening, closing the chute cover until I was SURE the check wasn't crawling back out.
This monthly ritual didn't bother me because I know that I have a "mild" case of OCD that I've learned to "out grow" with age... well... it's gotten better and most people don't notice it. But that day after the one hour wait in line, I really questioned myself, "Why can't I simply drop the package in the bin?" The answer did come to me later in the day when I was feeling the munchies. I was pouring out cereal and my co-worker glanced over and said... I love reading cereal boxes and all those toys that they try to sell to kids."
All of a sudden, it all made sense! When I was in the fourth grade, I placed an order for a Hot Wheels car via one of those cereal box offers. Needless to say, I never got my toy. I waited for days that soon turned into weeks and then months and of course, years. The Hot Wheels toy car wasn't the only mail offer that I sent for. I also tried to purchase a black and white film camera from one of those Bazooka Joe a nickel a piece gums. For both offers I saved up the required number of "box tops" or "comics" and sent the required shipping and handling fees. So... what happened?? Well... as a fourth grader, I knew nothing of "checks" and "money orders". I simply sent cash through the mail. Yes... I remember putting in nickels and pennies into a white envelop along with the "box tops" and "comics". After the incident with the Hot Wheels, I thought I got smarter. I assumed that the envelop simply ripped and the little nickels and pennies came out during delivery, so, for my camera offer, I scotch taped the edges of the envelop to re-enforce the seams. And of course... nothing came by mail. I felt cheated. So cheated.
My third bad experience with the US postal service also came that same year. I wrote to Santa Claus asking for a Teddy Ruxpin and he didn't deliver or write back explaining how bad I was and hence why I didn't get Teddy on Christmas Day.
It all sounds a little far fetch as an adult now, how something so long ago still can affect you as an adult. But, let me tell you... when you saved every dollar by doing chores around the house and collecting pennies off the sidewalk as a nine year old kid, NOT getting your long awaited toy MATTERS.
So... I had my taste of disappointment at an early age... so traumatized by the mail.
Sigh... "Dear Postal Worker who came across my 'Hot Wheels' and 'Bazooka Joe' offers with cash in the envelops, about 23 years ago, please return MY MONEY or send me my stuff!"
Anyway... I'm going to just enjoy the down time today since I haven't had any for quite a long time... hence... no new postings.
I strongly believe that we all relive our childhood experiences as adults. For the most part, we don't realize it, but we do subconsciously.
I stood in line at a post office with an Easter care package for an hour two weeks ago, while I watched others simply dropped them off in one of those drop-off bins. I kept on staring at the bin, wanting to approach it to drop-off my already fully postaged and addressed package, but something in me just kept me from walking 10 feet over.
In my head, I kept on making up excuses like, "Oh, that bin is only for 'special' packages and the line is moving anyway". I even started to do a countdown in my head. "Just another 15 minutes." Those "15 minutes" ended up being an hour.
When I reached the counter, I handed the package to the postal worker and told him, "I have $8.96 in total for the postage. I added one cent extra, just in case." He stared at the package then back at me with a semi-weird expression and continued to enter it into the system that I had paid $8.96 and then postmarked it for delivery.
When I saw him postmark the stamps on the box and dropped the box off into the sorting bin, I felt relieved. I took my receipt and headed back to the office feeling assured that the package was going to be delivered.
This is not the only compulsion that I have with our reliable (whatever) postal services. Whenever I mail a letter at one of those R2D2 tin boxes on the street corner, I tend to have to open and re-open the chute cover three times for good measure; as if the letter knew how to climb back out of the tin box. I noticed this compulsion early on, but never did anything about it because I tend to handle most bills electronically now; of course, until now that I moved into my studio.
For the past year I've been sending out my check at my building's street corner tin box to pay my maintenance charges on a monthly basis. At the beginning of each month I would have a fit with R2D2. Opening, closing, opening, closing, opening, closing the chute cover until I was SURE the check wasn't crawling back out.
This monthly ritual didn't bother me because I know that I have a "mild" case of OCD that I've learned to "out grow" with age... well... it's gotten better and most people don't notice it. But that day after the one hour wait in line, I really questioned myself, "Why can't I simply drop the package in the bin?" The answer did come to me later in the day when I was feeling the munchies. I was pouring out cereal and my co-worker glanced over and said... I love reading cereal boxes and all those toys that they try to sell to kids."
All of a sudden, it all made sense! When I was in the fourth grade, I placed an order for a Hot Wheels car via one of those cereal box offers. Needless to say, I never got my toy. I waited for days that soon turned into weeks and then months and of course, years. The Hot Wheels toy car wasn't the only mail offer that I sent for. I also tried to purchase a black and white film camera from one of those Bazooka Joe a nickel a piece gums. For both offers I saved up the required number of "box tops" or "comics" and sent the required shipping and handling fees. So... what happened?? Well... as a fourth grader, I knew nothing of "checks" and "money orders". I simply sent cash through the mail. Yes... I remember putting in nickels and pennies into a white envelop along with the "box tops" and "comics". After the incident with the Hot Wheels, I thought I got smarter. I assumed that the envelop simply ripped and the little nickels and pennies came out during delivery, so, for my camera offer, I scotch taped the edges of the envelop to re-enforce the seams. And of course... nothing came by mail. I felt cheated. So cheated.
My third bad experience with the US postal service also came that same year. I wrote to Santa Claus asking for a Teddy Ruxpin and he didn't deliver or write back explaining how bad I was and hence why I didn't get Teddy on Christmas Day.
It all sounds a little far fetch as an adult now, how something so long ago still can affect you as an adult. But, let me tell you... when you saved every dollar by doing chores around the house and collecting pennies off the sidewalk as a nine year old kid, NOT getting your long awaited toy MATTERS.
So... I had my taste of disappointment at an early age... so traumatized by the mail.
Sigh... "Dear Postal Worker who came across my 'Hot Wheels' and 'Bazooka Joe' offers with cash in the envelops, about 23 years ago, please return MY MONEY or send me my stuff!"
posted by Sparky X | 4:41 PM
2 Comments:
Hahaha. Cute and sad at the same time. Looks like you agree more with Freud's psychodynamic theory--childhood traumas and fascinations turning us into who we are today. :-p
So... does that mean you will become a psycho stalker when you grow up? :)
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home