My Mailman Hates Me

When I awoke this morning, it was from a dream that today was the day that I finally received my Radiohead In Rainbows disc-box. It was a lovely dream, consisting basically of me subtly caressing the box's cover. Heaven.

So it's almost quarter after 2pm and the mailman still has not come into my office. I swear I got a glimpse of him like an hour ago out in the hallway. He's trying to drive me to madness. To throw myself out my seventh story window. To slit open my carotid artery with a letter opener.

Why won't he come?!?!?!?

And I fear for the world's safety if he manages to come in here and not have my package. Fire and brimstone will rain, my friends.

Y'all are gonna hear either way, so prepare yourselves. I'd recommend earplugs and Hazmat suits.

ETA Another hour has passed. Still no mailman. I can't eat, I can't reply to emails, I can't think, until he shows up. Crippled! He's turned me into a vegetable. I'm just staring blankly at the door. This is how I'm going to die. Just staring at the door watching for the movement of shadows through the crack underneath it. Insanity. Argh.
.