One day in the life of your character for March writing contest
| The smell of coffee is the only thing that gets my 28 year old body out of bed. Being a mailman makes for very early hours. There have even been times were I would stay out all night and then head right into work. Now of course I was always sober going on, but does not mean I didn't have fun. Unfortunately the older I get the harder that is to do.
Living alone really means no responsibilities other than some light cleaning and bill paying. Light cleaning to a single man is throwing away trash and sweeping, at least for me. A little secret about me that no one knows, but my mom is the love I have for sweeping. I make the lines all nice and neat and feel very accomplished, but if unexpected company shows I will scrub my feet over the carpet to hide my dirty secret.
A perk of the job is direct deposit, so all my normal bills are on automatic withdrawal. Which means a no brainer with the bills. Never late always on time.
Trudging out the door at 4am is tough, but being done sometimes the earliest noon is so sweet. Rest of the day is open for naps, gym time, more naps. Really if my Friday works out its almost like a 3 day weekend. My route is pretty normal suburb families. Not a poor neighborhood, but not overly rich people either. All the mailboxes are out in the open by the road. No mean dogs to deal with and the regular homeowners I do see wave or say some sort of greeting when I go by.
Driving to the post office makes me think about my first day. I,Scott Johnson, was basically shaking in my boots. Getting into the post office first is a huge accomplishment because once you get in no one ever leaves. My true passion in life is fixing up cars, but that doesn't pay the bills. So I took the test for the good pay and benefits and amazingly got in.
Walking into the back room all kinds of "hi scott" and "what up man" come from fellow post people, to be politically correct. These people are my family. Brent is my best friend and fellow worker, so we do and know everything about each other. Then there are people whose names I don't really know, but are polite because we have the same job.
Living in North Carolina makes for decent weather almost all year round. Now a day's we do see a little more snow than normal, but nothing like the north, thank goodness. Tho I will say the extremely hot days are awful beyond compare.
This morning is one of the great ones. Cool but not freezing and the high is suppose to be just around seventy with sun all day. This is a jackpot day for me. Walking in this weather is the best form of exercise. Being outside, getting some vitamin d, takes the cake any day over the gym. Don't get me wrong I do squats and situps every day and have a gym membership, but this is the best.
I've had a few eyes turn my way with this job, but I never acknowledge any of it. I told myself from the beginning that I would not lose my job over a one time romp with some nameless bored house wife.
"Morning Scott" I hear Mrs. Davis yell. She makes the best cookies ever. Holidays always mean homemade lady locks from her. She even knows when my birthday is so that means homemade pasties from her all year round. Her husband has a vintage mustang that he is trying to get back into working order. So when I found this out and we began talking about it Saturday and Sunday became mustang work days when we can. They have 3 daughters, so I think I became an adopted son to them and really where I came from I openly accepted the whole family.
"Same to you Mrs. Davis tell mr. D I'll be over Saturday afternoon."
"Make sure you come hungry."
"Always for your cooking" handing her mail to her. I might not be very social with the neighborhood, but these are good people and I'm proud and honored to know them. My family was awful and I survived to get out, so I never really had any of this. I wouldn't give it up for anything, sisters and all. I think Mrs. D knew from the very beginning that my childhood was rough and nonloving. So she has just takin me in and treated me as her son without saying anything or expecting anything from me.
Making it half way thru my route I stop for a snack and a drink. I take few breaks to get done and get to the better things in life. I always stare at this red brick house that was newly built and bought. I just love it for some reason and always wonder who bought it. I have seen moving trucks, but that is it. Haven't seen anyone around the house,plus I haven't delivered mail either. Which,to me, is even stranger. It's been like 3 or 4 months, so who knows what goes on behind that door. I even brought it up to Mrs. Davis the other day if she saw any sign of life because she is one of the main gossipers on the street. Movement catches my eye but for just a second, so at least now I can confirm that there is life in the house. Will have to keep on looking and watching. Does this make me a gossiper, I guess so.
Pulling back into the garage almost ends my day. I just have deal with the mail I brought in and hope that i didn't deliver anything wrong or forget anything. Having to go back out doesn't happen a lot, but it sucks when it does happen.
I think the rest of this day will be filled with a nap. Have to get my exercises in, but I feel accomplished and just want to veg for awhile. Living alone allows this and there is no guilt not doing anything for a night.