Getting Bored

I have now done three delivery days to "Famous Author Land" in a row. On the one hand I love doing this area, a lot of it is green and leafy, but the best thing about my current duty is that I am in a different area every day of the week, normally. The author count has not been good though. I saw Ian Rankin in the distance as I was handing a parcel to his partner on Tuesday, and I spoke to Alexander McCall Smith today. He was concerned about some mail he had not recieved, and who could blame him. It seems that in all this bickering the real point of the whole exercise has been lost. The customers. I apologise on behalf of Royal Mail to anyone who has been inconvenienced by this dispute. I wish it could be resolved another way. Arm wrestling maybe. But of course that is silly and impractical, much like myself. I am sorry we have felt the need to recourse to strike action but it is about the only option us "cannon fodder" have at our disposal. The fat cat bosses seem to want to run the organisation like some type of Victorian plutocracy where we poor minions simply do as we are told, or else. Would you be happy to do more work for less money? I doubt it. It has been suggested that we deliver milk and papers as we go round with our bulging bags of mail. It has also been mooted that we read meters at the same time! Next thing you know they will want us to pop up the odd chimney and give it a sweep. After all, it smacks of Victoriana, which our managers are deeply steeped in. I laughingly suggested recently (you know what a major wit I am) that we could slide broom handles up where the sun don't shine and also sweep the streets as we pass. I hope the management don't get hold of that one or we could all have a bit trouble sitting down from now on.