I’m feeling pretty ill, something I ate yesterday is apparently having its revenge. I really shouldn’t leave the house, but on Saturday I missed a postal delivery, and I’m pretty sure it’s the shipment from Poland, the one with that last book I need to complete my set of the three book Fistaszki series in all their traced-Peanuts-strips glory. That might not make me feel physically better, but it should lift my spirits, I reckon.
And I get there, and they find the package, and yes, it’s from Poland, it’s what I’ve been waiting for!
Then I open it up.
They’ve sent the wrong book. It’s another copy of one of the volumes I already have.
AAUGH!
Now I feel even worse.
