Early morning boredom

I absolutely love watching the morning news. There is no program on TV that can entertain me more. I still can’t sleep so I’m watching the news. And thank god I was, otherwise do you think I would have guessed that it’s going to be hot in the summer? Blasted, and here I was thinking that it’s going to snow. It’s gonna be really hot. As opposed to every other summer for as long as I can remember when it was cold or what? That’s kind of what happens in the summer. It gets hot. Really hot. We know. It does that every summer. Next they announce us that traffic in Bucharest is bad. Nah…really? But traffic in Bucharest is always wonderful(for does who don’t live in Romania let me explain something: it’s almost as bad as India. I wish I was kidding). At least tell me where exactly the traffic is bad. Not that the traffic is bad. I already know that.

I also said I am going to post the story of the post office. Here goes:

I was at the post office, trying to send my papers in England. I sent them using SkyPak, which means that I couldn’t send them to a P.O. box. No problem, right? Oy, vey! Here’s the conversation:

I give the lady the papers. She looks at them then points to the box where it said “postal code” where I had written(shock!) the postal code.
“What’s this?”
“Uh…the postal code.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“It doesn’t look like a postal code.”
“That’s because it’s in England. Their post codes are different then ours.”(our are only numbers, theirs letters and numbers)
“Are you sure it isn’t a P.O. box?”
“Yes.”
“It looks like a P.O. box.”
“It’s the postal code.”
“Are you sure?”
*Insert hair pulling.*
“Yes!”
“Ok…but if it’s a P.O. box it’s not going to work.”
Head, meet desk.
Lady looks at the paper some more.
“Why doesn’t it have a number?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you wrote the street down, but no number.”
“It’s a huge campus. There’s no number.” *Points to the official letter with the address written in the corner.* “See?”
“It doesn’t look right to me.”
“That’s what it says. I’m sure they’ll find it.”
“If you say so…but why didn’t you write the name of the person you’re sending this to?”
“Because I am not sending this to a person. I’m sending them to a university.”(should I even mention that I had written “University of Leicester” in big letters just a wee-bit higher?) God, I was this -> <- close to strangling her.
Insert some chitchat here about “why am I sending them these” and “did I get a scholarship” and “what am I going to study” here, while the lady typed things into her stone-age computer(almost. She had Windows95).
I pay, lady gives me receipt, I start putting receipt in my wallet.
“And are you sure it’s not a P.O. box?”

Argh!!!
Oh, yeah, I love my country.