Another day without

When I lived sixty miles over bad roads in any direction from where a pack of cigarettes could be bought, the mail arrived at the post office every single day, whether it was icy, there was unploughed snow to a depth of four feet or more, it was close to fifty degrees below zero, it was pouring down rain, the roads were washed out, or whatever else might be a deterrence. The mail came from as far away as where cigarettes were to be had. From that post office, Star Route carriers went out onto unpaved roads to take whatever went to rural mailboxes. Here in Austin, where the roads are paved and the delivery vehicles are the same ones in use all over the nation, it's for some reason impossible to sort and deliver mail. Monday was a holiday. Tuesday, the excuse was the weather; today, Wednesday, there was still no mail. I just really hate a four-day stretch without any.