Today I got a very strange package in the mail. It was shaped like a rectangular prism.
It was wrapped in orange tissue paper and secured by a piece of gold, curly ribbon. I suspect the bright color is intended to ward off potential predators. It did not, however, work on me. I tore through the flimsy attempt at self-protection to get a better sense of exactly what this package was.
Lo and behold, upon opening it, I discovered something of intense and awe-inspiring beauty.
What is this strange creature? How did it adapt to the point where it developed a jacket to keep it warm and safe? And how did I get the privilege of having it in my life?
And why does it SAY my NAME on it?
Okay-- in all seriousness.
GUYS. This is a BOOK. It has a JACKET. You can take the jacket off, and put it back on again, and take it off again, and put it on again...
Yesterday I was so cool, calm, and collected. I was all "yeah, I know my book comes out in a month. I'm looking forward to it, but no, I don't feel like I'm about to spontaneously combust. I'm chill. I'm drinking tea and reading in my pajama pants."
"Was" is the operative word.
Because right now? I'm "!!!!!MY BOOK IS A BOOK!!!!!!"
And I hate exclamation points. So I don't use them lightly.
I don't know what else to say, other than...LOOK AT IT WITHOUT THE JACKET!