I ordered a book from Amazon the other day.
Just one of those escape room in a book type things, puzzles that intertwine and ultimately lead to a final solution which, according to the blurb in the book, can’t be used yet… so there’s obviously more afoot.
I ordered it, and it said it would come on Friday the 17th of July. That worked for me. I wasn’t in any rush, I probably wouldn’t even pick it up and play it for a while. It’d just sit on a shelf. But I had seen adverts for it on a variety mediums and wanted it, because I’m easily swayed.
So I bought it, and I prepared to wait for it, as I say, I’m not bothered when it comes. And it’s not a case of needing someone to be in because someone would be in during these new normal times (which, by the looks of the internet, I’m supposed to be kicking off about and branding masks as an infringement of my civil rights, calling them muzzles and comparing this to bits of the war that provide quotes which suit my case for the whole thing being ridiculous…).
It arrived today.
A day after I ordered it.
With barely any warning. Alexa flashed yellow at me, which means something’s coming. And then it came.
Don’t you just hate it when deliveries don’t arrive when you expect them. When you sit in all day, in the future, waiting for something that’s already been delivered…
Oh, no, wait…
Having said that, though, Carole ordered a picture frame about a month ago, and we’re still waiting for that. So it’s not all good…