We live in a condo building with lots of young, childless professional people. This means lots of Internet shopping and lots of boxes from Macy's and Amazon and shoe stores and other fun places piled up near our mailboxes every day. Rarely are these for me as I am relatively impoverished, which seriously limits my online shopping. I love online shopping- it's like you get the joy of the stuff twice- once when you buy it and once when it arrives in the mail. I miss that.
So, I was complaining to Daniel the other day about my jealousy of all the fun boxes. Especially since the people across the hall have been getting TONS of stuff (I think they must have just gotten married or something). I have present issues- namely I LOVE them and get sad in the summer since we have Valentine's Day/our wedding anniversary/my birthday all together, and I get used to presents all the time.
Anyway, I was moping around about presents and boxes last week, when one day there was a knock at the door. I opened the door and found... a box! A lovely, relatively heavy one!!! The joy! The excitement! Then I looked at the label and saw that it was addressed to "Jenny, Age 4." My cat. My cat got a box in the mail. Me, no boxes. My cat, a box. This is just not right.
The box contained a 7 pound bag of fancy cat food that my cat is testing out for a survey panel that I am a member of. Which means that the cat snarfs down fancy cat food and gets ruined for the cheap cat food that I buy her. And I will have to answer a phone survey in a few weeks with brilliant questions like: "How does your cat feel about the food?" "Does your cat like the texture of the food?" My cat is not that discerning. Pretty much if it's food, she eats it. She takes after me in that one.
So now it's back to hoping for a box for me. I'm going to have to buy myself a present or something. Off to work on thinking up a good excuse...