Here’s the nutshell: you can’t predict it. The mailman doesn’t follow your calendar. He follows the mail. And the mail is a fickle creature. So stop peeking through the blinds. Go make coffee. The mail will come when it comes.
Unless you have a package. Then it’ll come exactly when you’re on the toilet. That’s the Cardinal Rule of Mail. Maybe that’s why they don’t give us a time—they know it’s a cosmic gag. So relax. Your mailman loves you (even if he’s late). You’ll get that Netflix disc or jury duty notice soon enough.
Now, go check the mailbox. Is it there yet? No? Give it 10 minutes. Or six hours. Who’s counting?
