There's not a lot that I have to look forward to in life. Being a single guy, all I have that puts a smile on my face is my truck, my car and my TV remote. Outside my home, I have friends, of course, I'm not a complete recluse, but when I'm at home, it's essentially those three things, sprinkled with the comedic antics of my boy, Monkey. I also love getting mail, although it's mostly bills and reminders that I need to pay bills that occupy my mailbox. However, on Wednesdays and Fridays , is when the fliers and coupons arrive. These are the days when my ears perk up and find a little dance in my step.
I love to slowly and methodically look through my fliers with a black marker or highlighter pen in hand, circling everything that I want to go look at or purchase for that week. Suffice it to say, when I was employed full time, this was a real treat, as opposed to the last few months where circling things is an admission of a virtual pipe dream, if I bother perusing that flier at all. Most times, now, I'm discarding favourite fliers rather than teasing myself with wishful thinking.
So when suddenly the steady flow of fliers came to a complete halt, disappearing as quickly and as mysteriously as the dinosaurs. Like a sad puppy staring out the window for it's master, I found myself constantly scanning the street for a lonely soul pulling a cart filled with tightly wound fliers. Believing a watched kettle never boils, I tried to occupy my time with something else, coming back to check my mailbox infrequently, only to close the front door with sullen despair.
Finally I'd had enough heartbreak and disappointment and sent a stern email to the local newspaper, the authority responsible for sending out the fliers in the first place. A short time later, not only did I find the fliers stuffed into my mailbox, but now I notice that someone drives to my house specifically, to hand deliver the fliers early in the morning, opposed to the evening time, like before. Looks like I got me some pull. Day-am!!!
I love to slowly and methodically look through my fliers with a black marker or highlighter pen in hand, circling everything that I want to go look at or purchase for that week. Suffice it to say, when I was employed full time, this was a real treat, as opposed to the last few months where circling things is an admission of a virtual pipe dream, if I bother perusing that flier at all. Most times, now, I'm discarding favourite fliers rather than teasing myself with wishful thinking.
So when suddenly the steady flow of fliers came to a complete halt, disappearing as quickly and as mysteriously as the dinosaurs. Like a sad puppy staring out the window for it's master, I found myself constantly scanning the street for a lonely soul pulling a cart filled with tightly wound fliers. Believing a watched kettle never boils, I tried to occupy my time with something else, coming back to check my mailbox infrequently, only to close the front door with sullen despair.
Finally I'd had enough heartbreak and disappointment and sent a stern email to the local newspaper, the authority responsible for sending out the fliers in the first place. A short time later, not only did I find the fliers stuffed into my mailbox, but now I notice that someone drives to my house specifically, to hand deliver the fliers early in the morning, opposed to the evening time, like before. Looks like I got me some pull. Day-am!!!
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