Just when I think I’ve made peace with the situation, I have a day with no mail. I’ve grown used to sliding into my boots every afternoon at about 4:30 so I can walk out through the mud and get my mail. A month ago I wouldn’t have dreamed of doing that without complaining loudly. Ten days ago I couldn’t have imagined I’d still be doing it today, with no end in sight. Now it’s just another part of my day, like shaving, a bit of a nuisance but nothing to get all het up about.

Except I want my mail every day. I skip shaving whenever I think I can get away with it, but I resent all those holidays when there’s no mail delivery.

So when I tromped out there this afternoon at 4:30 and found the mailbox empty, I stood there for a few minutes, willing the mail truck to appear around the bend in the road. Then I headed back up the drive and stood near the house, where I had the clear view of the mailbox I can’t get from anywhere inside. I watched for a while but finally gave up, hosed off my boots, and went back inside.

There were several possibilities. Maybe, just maybe, I didn’t have any mail today. This seemed to be such a remote possibility that it immediately occurred to me that I should keep watch, because the carrier was probably just late. So I put the step stool in front of the one window that has the least obstructed view of the end of the drive and stood on it and watched.

As I watched, I thought of a third, more ominous possibility. What if my carrier simply refused to drive the mail truck through the mud? What if my mail wasn’t being delivered because of the muck in my driveway? That’s probably not what happened, since I’ve been getting my mail every day (except for those infernal holidays) since the big storm on New Year’s Eve. But still. What if?

Eventually I gave up watching, because it got dark and I didn’t want to walk out there in the dark and wade through the mud. While I was standing on the stool, I could also keep an eye on my landlord’s house, but there was no sign of life there, as has been the case for at least two weeks now. As soon as he gets back from wherever he’s hiding, he’ll get to hear me whine about the mud. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll have the Boss call him. He’s already offered.