Where Are You US Magazine?

I have been a faithful US Magazine subscriber for a while now. It is my weekly moment of Zen. It is my half-hour on a Friday night, when I can sneak away after the babes is sleeping and lose myself in the lives of people I will never meet, probably never see in person and who I can judge comfortably from the privacy of my own home.

Where are you US Magazine? As a subscriber I should receive my copy on Friday--Saturday at the latest. After that, not only am I mocked horribly at the grocery store check-out line when I see its bright, neon face, but the news is old. It is old! US sends me a daily link to their online site. I already know half the stuff the magazine is going to be talking about by the time it gets to me. Why can't it just get here on time? Monday starts a new week and I am busy. Tuesday? I might as well just use it to line my neighbors cat box, by that time even my grandparents are up to speed on the celebrity circuit.

I only live 40 minutes from where their office is located. I am thinking about taking a late afternoon drive. One small window of time is all I ask for. I am not asking to read a short story or God forbid an entire novel every week, just one glossy tabloid rag that I can whip through in 25 minutes, a little brain candy for a busy mom. Please. Please. Please be in the mailbox today.