Statute of Limitations

We live in a doorman building, fairly unusual in San Francisco, which allows us to do a great deal of retailing online because there is always someone to sign for packages.  My favorite website on earth (and I’m totally serious, I can’t say enough good things about it) is  Four words: free next-day delivery.  Heck yeah!  Oops, I’m almost out of diapers!  Order by 6pm and by midday the next day, there’s a case on my doorstep.  I try not to abuse this service and order in bulk as much as possible for biological-footprint reasons, but it’s nice to know it’s there in a pinch.

Well, in case you haven’t been reading regularly, there’s a newborn in the house and lately I’ve just been too overwhelmed/exhausted/lazy (?) to make the trip to the mailroom.  Shower?  Check.  Dishes?  Done.  Dinner?  Prepped.  Laundry?  Folded.  Baby?  Fed, fed, and fed again (and again). order picked up?  Ooooh, that feels like a lot.  Surely there’s another diaper around here somewhere…under the stroller?  My husband’s diaper bag?  Booyah!

Well, the fact that I haven’t retrieved the boxes doesn’t mean I’ve stopped running out of stuff and re-ordering it (wipes, diaper cream)…so the orders have been piling up downstairs for about a week and today, as the cherry on top, the CSA arrived.  (In all fairness, the word “PACKAGES!!!” is scrawled across today’s to-do list, but it’s only noon…okay, I admit it.  I am lazy.  I have no real excuse.)

Anyway, the building manager called.  She was very friendly but also clear that we’ve let quite a few packages linger and was I aware there are perishables down there now?  Ooops.  So I apologized and explained that I have a newborn — which felt a little sneaky because actually, Babygirl is one month old today and I should probably start to function like a normal human being again at some point in the near future.  But she was understanding and arranged for the doorman to bring the packages upstairs.

So, I have one less item on my to-do list today.  My husband will be thrilled not to have to run all over the house searching for a baby wipe the next time our little lady defecates.  But I am henceforth resolving that I will no longer use my newborn as a crutch.  I will take responsibility for my online ordering (and maybe, just maybe, unack the boxes now that they’re here…)

p.s. I just typed this whole post with one hand.  I’m a blogging ninja.

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