Our campus post office is way across from where my housing is. I’m guessing it’s about a quarter of a mile because it takes me about ten minutes to walk to class every day.
I had gotten an email that alerted me I had something waiting at the post office, but I had assumed it was something I had ordered from Amazon.
Imagine my surprise when I received three packages. One from Amazon, and two packages that said “Shakespeare’s Lady” on them.
I tried to hide my squeal from the post guy, who looked at me and said, “This is really heavy. I hope you don’t have too far to go.”
I kind of chuckled like, “Dude. I’m from Montana. We lift hay bales and ride buckin’ broncos and eat steak.”
Which, I don’t do any of those things when I am actually in Montana, so it was definitely a premature chuckle.
He handed the packages over and I began walking up the hill from hell that someone most assuredly slips down every winter at SLC, breathing hard and realizing only after the fact that maybe I should have figured out a better way to carry these.
I stopped and readjusted. A few times.
I had made it about halfway and my face was red and sweaty and I was breathing hard when a girl I knew from ukulele club passed by and asked what was in them.
Somehow, telling her about what I was carrying gave me the strength to make it about another tenth of a mile—before I collapsed in the grass a ways from the housing complex.
Students walked by as I was literally lying down in the grass with packages strewn around my head. They gave me funny looks and raised their eyebrows and laughed. But, of course, none offered to help me carry them en extra few feet. I thought I was done for. That I would lie there until dark and the wolves would come out and eat what was in my Amazon package (which was a giant thing of popcorn kernels) and then eat me. Until I remembered there are no wolves thirty minutes north of Manhattan, and it was more likely I would be eaten by cannibalistic homeless people. And then I realized I had been lying there for way too long.
Like Achilles after the death of Patroclus, I somehow managed to find the hero inside me and lifted the packages with shaking arms. I walked inside Hill House, went to the elevator, to my door, and then to my room where I promptly deposited them on my desk chair. I opened them up and…
It was all worth it.
And then I ate two cookies.