Tom needs a ride home (his car lost its alternator), so it's going to be tight, schedule-wise, and as we're trundling down College Rd with my poor car and its frozen-square tires, we're talking about those lucky saps who have Mt Luther King day off... ya know, government workers, like my husband and... the post office workers.
So I stop to pick up Wish3, which isn't done anyway.
And I drop Tom off, and think, oh, even if I can't mail Wish3, I'll stop and see if any of the packages I'm expecting are in, which of course they aren't because DUH, the post office is closed today.
So I trundle back to work, walk into the building with my extention cord in my hands rather than plugging in the car because I'm a brain-dead IDIOT, go back and plug in my car, and go back into the building to find a sticky note on my chair saying that Bill's trip was cancelled: go home.
Which I will now do.