My youngest sister bought my book, Practice, Practice, Practice: This Psychiatrist’s Life on Saturday 2/29/2020, the day it launched on Amazon. “Was I your first sale?!” she texted.

“I don’t know!! So excited!” I texted back.

“It’s arriving Monday!”

What!? I came to. She was going to get her copy before I got mine!

You see, I had not yet laid my hands on my very own copy. That’s because Amazon prints books only on demand. And while my publisher had ordered me some, those weren’t arriving for at least a week!!!!! (Five exclamation marks. I know, I know, the mark of an insane mind. Don’t worry. Insane is what I do.) Naturally, I immediately ordered myself one.

“Mine’s not coming till Wednesday! Why? It hasn’t been an hour since you ordered yours. I want mine Monday too!” I texted her.

“They like me better than you. Obviously.”

“Ha ha.”

“Maybe I’m closer to my local distribution center than you are to yours.” I hate logical explanations, don’t you?

“I got my book!” she texted Monday. I hadn’t gotten mine. Being a board certified shrink with decades of experience and serious gravitas, I handled myself well. AAAARG, I groaned in animal agony. AARG! AARG! AARG.

My book arrived yesterday, Wednesday. Isn’t it beautiful? Isn’t it wonderful? Made from love.