My book didn't come. The first copies were supposed to be delivered by a certain shitty delivery service that fuck up EVERY SINGLE time. When the publisher wrote me on Friday to let me know the copies would arrive for Saturday delivery I experienced a rush of excitement followed by a sense of doubt and dread. That delivery service has NEVER delivered when they were supposed to.

I couldn't sleep Friday night. My book! My book! I woke up several times in the early morning with a jolt. "Is it time for my book to arrive?"

Eventually I got out of bed, showered and ate. I wanted to be clean and dressed so Davin could take pictures of me (without greasy crazy hair) accepting the package, opening a copy for the first time, holding it up in glee, jumping up and down, rolling around on the ground with those 5 copies... Then I waited. And I cleaned. And I did my laundry. I checked the status of the package via the website. There was so much nervous energy that I couldn't put to good use. Often times said delivery service uses the excuse that they can't find our place. So I painted a GIANT number sign and the number of our building and taped it to the brick. I even cleaned my workspace and desk so when Davin took the photos you wouldn't see my mess.

So the books did not arrive. I spent the entire day indoors, read the last half of an entire novel, sat around twiddling my thumbs watching people through the window as they enjoyed the sunshine and mild temperatures and the fucking delivery service did not deliver my books. I am so disappointed. I just don't think I'll be able to get that excited all over again on Monday.

Cruel. Fuckers.