So after several days of providing constant application of middle-aged dad rage combined with 20-odd years of employer-subsidized desensitization to the soul-crushing repetition of administration and bureaucracy on my part, Jeremy called me today to tell me that they recovered my package and it would be waiting for me on his chair in his office. The kid at the counter who ran back to get it apologized to me on behalf of the post office several times, so I suspect, briefly, I was the talk of the office.

Not a great picture because the sun had already set by the time I got home with them, but here they are: