I reckon Australia Post has pulled off one of the greatest magic tricks in Australian history.
Youâll sit at home all day waiting for a parcel like some sort of emotionally neglected Labrador. You wonât shower, you wonât duck to the shops, youâll practically hold your bladder hostage because you know the second you leave⌠thatâs when theyâll show up.
Then your phone pings.
Delivery attempted.
Attempted where, babe?
Because Iâve been home. The dog didnât bark. The doorbell didnât ring. The cameras didnât pick up so much as a leaf blowing past the front gate.
Yet somehow youâve âmissedâ me.
Then, to really rub salt into the wound, my parcel gets sent to a post office thatâs apparently located in another postcode and only opens for seven and a half minutes every second Tuesday.
The tracking doesnât help either.
âOnboard for delivery.â
Brilliant!
That could mean itâs five houses away, or doing laps of regional Victoria with a packet of Temu eyelashes, someoneâs emotional support protein powder and a pair of Crocs.
Then comes the final kick in the guts.
âSorry we missed you.â
No you didnât.
You avoided me.
At this point Iâm convinced those little red âSorry We Missed Youâ cards are just being launched out the driverâs window at 60km/h like Ninja Stars.