I work early second shift--12pm-9--and I went out with friends last night after work due to this week sucking massively. I crashed at said friend's place, and drove home around seven am, where I went back to bed.
At noon, suddenly there's massive POUNDING on my apartment door in rapid succession. About a half dozen raps, a pause of about five seconds, and then another half dozen raps. I was still sleeping, and it freaked me the fuck out. I thought it was the police or a fire or an alien attack or something. I sit up and say I'm coming. By the time I've disentangled myself from the sheets, unlocked, and unchained the door, there's just a package on the floor outside my door with a disembodied "Thank you!" coming from up the stairs where I would presume my mail carrier was standing. Can't say for sure, because I never fucking see her.
I kicked the damn package inside and shut & relock, muttering "was that really necessary?" to myself.
She does this all the time. She's even thrown my package down the half-flight of stairs once or twice. I am literally the closest apartment to the mailbox, so it's not as out of her way as it could be.
I realize that I might get a lot more packages than most of the people in my complex (massive college student presence), but damn. They're usually just t-shirts. Nothing that urgent. (If it is urgent, I'll go UPS anyway. *snicker*)
Edit: All righty, bring on the snark. *waves at c_suck_snark*