While this isn’t always the case, I have a certain expectation of how Saturday is supposed to work. I expect to get up, make more coffee than I normally have time to drink, eat sugary cereals and look through the newspaper. I imagine this scene is similarly played out throughout North America.
Of course, just when you expect something, or grow used to it, it doesn’t happen. I got up, looked for the paper and couldn’t find it. I wandered around my lawn (making it sound bigger than it really is) checking to see if the paper was misplaced–even on the roof, because you never know. The cool temperature forced me inside before I started digging holes in the yard–but you get the idea.
Yes, there was a happy resolution…okay, just a resolution. After registering my complaint a new paper was delivered an hour later by an unapologetic person in a car. Didn’t this used to be a job for children? I almost titled this post “Paperboy Where are You–then I realized that was a bit sexist. “Paper delivery person where are you?” just didn’t have the oomph I was looking for.
Next month, or in the next few weeks, I hope I will get up and go on my Saturday ride. This would forgo the need for a paper at all. I only started getting the newspaper recently because the deal was so good. I hadn’t planned on keeping it long and today’s fiasco only reinforces this plan.
