Sad Internutter

A 1-post collection

Day 15 of mail-watching

Managed to catch the postie with the cunning strategy of camping out on my doorstep and waiting for them to turn up.

Alas, the postie doesn’t know what’s taking so firkin long, either.

BTW - on weekdays, you get these just after I’ve come in from lurking for the mail. So you know just after I do. Assuming that anyone is bothering with this portion of my blog. I mean, you all probably have Vice Quadrant by now.

This is the first time I have ever been able to pay for a special offer. Let alone the first time I’ve pre-ordered an album at all. From the first band that I’ve actually cared about.

This is the first time I’ll be able to hold their work in my hands. Fresh off the production line, as it were.

That is… assuming it ever gets here.

I’ve already had one kind offer of sharing their tunes digitally from the fanmily, but… it’s not quite the same as holding the physical copy I own. The one I earned. It’s not the same as holding it and smelling in and treasuring it because I love these loonies from San Diego like I’ve never loved any other talented person from afar.

Late tomorrow evening will mark the beginning of the third week that my copy of Vice Quadrant has been in the mail. and this is the second week, by all my calculations, that it has been in this country.

It should be here. It might be here soon.

For all I know, it’s taken a mysterious side-trip through Tullagawupwup because some arsehole misread the shipping label. For all I know, it’s on a slow boat back to the States for the very same reason. For all I know, the plane took a trip through the firkin Bermuda Triangle.

It’s the not knowing anything that hurts.

I gotta keep taking a deep breath away from the depression and tell myself… Maybe tomorrow. And on Fridays, Maybe next week…


Maybe tomorrow.