Remember that long, whiny email I wrote, like, three days ago?
Voice of Reason: “You mean the one where you were having a hissy-fit over an ever-so-slightly delayed shipping schedule? The one where you had a Bieber-esque tantrum about having to wait for three seconds? The one where you felt a suffocating load of stress crushing you like a fat horse sitting on top of a marshmallow Peep but it was actually just a thing that didn’t happen and thereby ended up being a (shudder) normal-in-every-respect-week? That email?”
Me: “Uhh…yeah. That one. So…you remember?”
Well…Good news! The books came!
They were delivered by an honest-to-goodness trucker named Kelly. 1,500 pounds (680 kg) of pure, un-cut Saturday, baby. Hey, by the way: did you know I can lift 1,500 pounds? I mean, not all at once (heaven forefend; I have delicate illustrator’s wrists). But broken up into very small increments, I can lift that much weight. Eventually. To be fair, I had help from a neighbor who is, fortunately, not an illustrator. He’s a construction worker who also plays rugby. Which worked out real good for one of us.
We moved the books inside (my everything hurts today) and then I spent the next eight hours unpacking, signing (180 books! My delicate illustrator’s wrists!), and re-packing. Today, my totally awesome parents drove an hour and a half in bad weather to help their miscreant adult son pack boxes. We worked like beavers who are just about to get fired from beavering and are terrified because they have beaver bills and a beaver mortgage to think about. And then I spent several hours at the Post Office where a group of employees with saint-like patience helped me mail them (well, there are a few left).
They’re on their way to you (unless you didn’t fill out your survey, tsk tsk finger wag tsk). I don’t know when they’ll arrive. Particularly if you live outside the US. Hopefully before the holidays. In the meantime, I’ll make something you can print up and give to people in lieu of the book in case it doesn’t arrive in time (thanks for the great suggestion, David O.).
If you live in the United States, Thanksgiving is Thursday.
I just realized what a stupid sentence that is. Even if you live in another country, the American holiday of Thanksgiving is STILL on Thursday. Your geographic location does not effect the date of a major holiday in another country.
Let me start over.
Hey, Thanksgiving is coming up!
And what better time to count one’s blessings? That’s totally the point according this made-for-TV docu-drama I saw on the WB network. It had that guy from “Saved By the Bell” (not the main guy, the other one) and I think I remember it was really touching or something. Anyhoo, I thought I’d make a list of the things for which I’m grateful, in the spirit of the docu-dramas:
-Books that arrive eventually.
-Construction workers/rugby players who are amenable to helping lift heavy things.
-My parents, for pretty much everything, ever.
-Patient Postal Workers
-My (totally condescending, uppity, I-told-you-so) voice of reason.
-You (you know why; let’s not make it weird, ok?)
Ok. I’m going to go soak my everything. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You helped make this possible. And someday I hope it gets portrayed in a made-for-tv docu-drama starring that guy from “Saved by the Bell” (not the main guy, the other one).