Wait a minute... Mr. Postman

Do you remember the days when your Great Grandparents or Grandparents refused to get direct deposit on their social security checks and had to HAVE the checks in their hands? They would pace by the window waiting for the postman/woman to arrive with their check so they could dash to the bank and deposit it?
I'm an old person waiting by the mailbox these days. I seem to love grabbing the mail and checking it for a letter from the Mr.
I probably missed a winning letter from Publisher's Clearing house because it was passed over searching for a letter from Iraq.
What has happened to me?
Deployment exhaustion... it's a new diagnosis that this uneducated doctor is proclaiming has possessed my body.
Between running to the mailbox, I'm jotting notes to myself because I can't remember a thing. I have neglected my blog to attack Christmas with a vengence... oh, and stock pantries, wash clothes, give baths, do homework and on special days... wash my hair ;).
I'm here and I'm there but I don't seem to know where I am anymore.
The days are running together.............................smash!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh, no... here comes Wednesday!
So, dear friends. I hope to get better at this bloggin' thing! But, gotta go.................UPS IS HERE!