I Gave Up Everything so Someday I Can Have Something

Exhaustion has erased most of my fears.

There it is, dangling in front of me, so close I can almost feel it in my grasp.

Form 2574.

Navigating the world of a USPS City Carrier Assistant (CCA) requires knowing about lots of four-digit forms. The one that gets me through the day, every single day, is Form 2574 — the official form to resign your position.

Back in October, I wrote about my new adventure into the world of becoming a mail carrier. I was afraid I was too old and wouldn’t be able to do it.

The good news is I can do it. That’s also the bad news.

Like most US citizens, I assumed mail carrier was a pretty set position. Union benefits, a nice government pension, set days, and fairly set hours.

I was wrong.

You start as a non-career employee. You deliver mail on a different route every day, sometimes several different routes. You never know what you will be doing from day to day or even hour to hour. You also deliver packages, hundreds each day. Mainly Amazon, with some UPS and Temu mixed in for good measure. Maybe even a few USPS parcels if you are lucky.

They can work you up to 12 hours a day, and they do. Sometimes more if you don’t put your foot down. It can also be a seven-day-a-week job (on Sundays CCAs are required to deliver Amazon packages). I’m in a “good” office, which means I get one scheduled day off a week, as long as I don’t answer my phone when they try to call me in.

CCAs don’t earn anything toward pension or get the good health insurance. We don’t get sick days, although we do get a bit of annual leave every year. Our contract can be terminated annually, so there is no job security until we make it two years and convert to ‘career.’ Although to be fair, refusal to renew the contract is rare as long as you’re not stealing or punching people in the face.

It’s disgraceful of our government and of our union to allow this sort of treatment. Finding a fellow carrier on the road bawling is a daily occurrence. Mental breakdowns among CCAs are common.

So, Form 2574. When the day gets rough and my body starts to shut down, I remember that I have the power to file Form 2574 at any time and walk away. Freedom is just a form (signed, in triplicate) away.

Enough about that, though. This is about me.

Why am I doing this as a 47-year-old woman whose deepest desire is to live as a little gnome in a woodland cottage surrounded by a big, homey garden? Why am I destroying my body, burning myself out mentally, and working too much to find much enjoyment in anything?

Because the world we live in doesn’t give me many options for buying that little cottage, thanks to real estate inflation and inflation in general.

There are some benefits still for those working in the post office. One is penalty overtime. Anything over 8 hours in a day pays time and a half. Over 12 pays double time. Plus we get a paltry amount for any hours worked after 6 pm.

I am one half of a couple. My partner makes enough to cover our monthly expenses, so all this overtime means my partner and I have managed to save five figures towards our cottage dream in 2.5 months. Our increased income and the dependable government job make us look better to banks, which means someone will give us a mortgage.

I only need to do this until we find and close on our cottage. My partner’s income covers expenses (and then some), so once the down payment is done with, my income is not a necessity. Of course, I have plans to still earn, just at my own pace and in my own gnome-ish ways.

So every day I push myself until I think I will collapse, with the promise of Form 2574 and a small cottage dangling just out of reach.

Jenny Wren writes on Medium when she can find time away from her quasi-governmental overlords. She also talks to flowers, sings to birds, and has deep conversations with squirrels when a moment allows.