So. I thought I was from a small town. I really did.
I mean, my hometown here in rural Connecticut has less than 10,000 people. It took me forty five minutes today to drive to Whole Foods. We have one major grocery store, and my high school graduating class had fewer than 100 kids.
But then I tried to move to rural New Hampshire, and I learned the difference. There is a difference.
First I had to call Ant Bea at the Mayberry, I mean, Wolfeboro town hall to order my electric service. What? This town has it's own electric company? I am picturing guinea pigs running on wheels to generate power on a quaint Victorian porch. They need a deposit from me because I am a new customer and they aren't set up to take credit or debit cards, so I had to pop an old fashioned check in the mail today. What?
The day before that I found out I have no mail delivery service to my house. What?
I live in the downtown of the largest village in the area and it's actually pretty bustling. They don't have postal workers doing walking routes? So, immediately when I get up there I have to sign up for a post office box.
I thought I'd save money on trash removal by purchasing a town dump sticker until I found out that's only good from April to the end of October, because they close for the winter.
Then I found out that my car insurance company, esurance, does not provide service to New Hampshire. First, I was pissed at the inconvenience but I actually saved a ton of money per month by switching to Allstate. So, blessing in disguise there.
First thing when I get there, I better go buy a gingham dress and sit on my porch with some lemonade.
But good news. Good, good news. I will have high speed internet and HBO by the afternoon of day two. Cable services are no joke my friends. No joke.