I reckon Australia Post has pulled off one of the greatest magic tricks in Australian history. You’ll sit at home all day waiting for a parcel like some sort of emotionally neglected Labrador. You won’t shower, you won’t duck to the shops, you’ll practically hold your bladder hostage because you know the second you leave… that’s when they’ll show up. Then your phone pings. Delivery attempted. Attempted where, babe? Because I’ve been home. The dog didn’t bark. The doorbell didn’t ring. The cameras didn’t pick up so much as a leaf blowing past the front gate. Yet somehow you’ve “missed” me. Then, to really rub salt into the wound, my parcel gets sent to a post office that’s apparently located in another postcode and only opens for seven and a half minutes every second Tuesday. The tracking doesn’t help either. “Onboard for delivery.” Brilliant! That could mean it’s five houses away, or doing laps of regional Victoria with a packet of Temu eyelashes, someone’s emotional support protein powder and a pair of Crocs. Then comes the final kick in the guts. “Sorry we missed you.” No you didn’t. You avoided me. At this point I’m convinced those little red “Sorry We Missed You” cards are just being launched out the driver’s window at 60km/h like Ninja Stars.