The problem with ordering things from the internet is knowing where to get them delivered. In the past, I've had things delivered to work, knowing that there'll always be somebody around to have a chat to the postie. It's also a nice break to the day to rip open a parcel and show the contents off to workmates like a Primary School "show and tell" session.

Ooooh look! That's a nice shirt! That's a nice keyring! You get really cool stuff in the mail, Jac. You must be cool too!

*ahem*

However, what is a girl to do when ordering something, erm, personal from the net? There's no way I'm going to open a box of tampons, or condoms in the middle of the office in front of an unsuspecting crowd of onlookers!

So... I decided to send the ordered parcel home. My home. With the narrow letter box that is clogged with cobwebs and last year's dustmite colony.

Postman didn't even TRY and shove it through. He just left me a note with a nasty message saying:
"You friggin' idiot! What were you thinking! Come and collect this HUGE box from me at a time that's not convenient."

So I got somebody else to pick it up for me. And they dropped it off ... at work.

Right. Square One. Again.

So what's in your parcel, Jac? Arent ya gunna open it and see? Go on! Open it! Your mail is always so exciting! Open it! Open! Open!!

So yeah... Isn't the weather cool!? Glorious rain has been leaking from the sky for the whole day, softly soaking everything and anything.

Such a relief. And a nice way to change the topic.

Pity about the suspicious box that's sitting UNOPENED on my desk.... And I'm not going to tell you what's inside it!