kay, whoever is part of this little conspiracy can
just go self-immolate
... The phone goes off this morning at, uh, wait, let's try this again. I'm soundly asleep this morning. REAL SOUNDLY asleep because I had a pretty great date last night, and I stayed there pretty late chitty-chatting and what-not. So this morning the phone rings. How early? I dunno, my glasses aren't on. But in the mornings I always assume I've overslept. It's some nutball from Dell looking for my brother. So I take a message and head back to bed. I look at the clock -- 7:22. What the heck is that?!? Out the window, I see the sun BEGINNING to rise. UGH. So back to bed I go.
At 8:40 my doorbell rings.
I wake up (well I appear to wake up) and scramble around, finding pants, run through the apartment (ding-dong!) the bell rings again, I leap down the stairs in my apartment, throw open the 2nd floor landing door, and leap onto the final flight of stairs. I can see no one outside the door from the top of the stairs. I get to the bottom, and fling open the door. Nothing. Tumbleweeds roll past. It's deathly silent. I look right, left, and right again. Eerie. I think it was the damnable Fed-Ex lady. They (UPS/Fed-Ex/Mailman) will wait about .0008 seconds (science thinks they are limited by quantum physics to waiting any shorter of a time) after ringing the bell before, apparently, beaming back up to the stinking delivery truck / mother-ship. They could show David Blaine a thing or two about street magic.
ARGH. A curse on the houses of delivery.