Good news! I am back, and it has not been over a year.

Yesterday was shaping up to be an exciting day. Why so exciting, you ask? Let me back up. Last Friday, I did something I do not do:

a) very well

b) very often

I asked for help. (I am an Enneagram two, so I inherently desire to be “The Helper” and not ask for it.)

There were a lot of tasks I needed to check off the list last week, and we were running up against the deadline of the publication of my new memoir. I really enjoy personally signing books for people, and in order for that to happen, my publisher sent a pallet of books to our house a week or so ago. We also had a giant roll of bubble wrappy stuff (it is not exactly bubble wrap, but something that provides cushion) and a mound of 9 X 12 manila envelopes delivered. (It should be noted that we had tape as well, but apparently not enough. More on this later.)

I was excited to send the books out but feeling overwhelmed by the book’s “pub date” (that’s how I say it now, because I am a fancy author) and being able to get all the books out on time. This is where I decided to actually ask for help. My spouse and one of our children did help, and I was—am—grateful. I signed, sorted, and check-listed books, and when I had to go to work they packaged, addressed, and mailed.

(Sometimes I get distracted. I was listening to Matchbox Twenty’s “Real World” and thinking, “Well, it sounds like you would fly downtown if you were a super hero.”)

Now we are getting to why yesterday was shaping up to be an exciting day. It was the day some of the first books were going to be delivered, according to USPS tracking intel. I received a text message that I could first only scan but not click on, and I deduced that it was about their book order. A fun feeling of giddiness ran through my body as I finished whatever work task I was doing, and then I went back to my phone. I clicked on the message. My stomach dropped. The first book that had been shipped to someone on the preorder list . . . fell out of the envelope and was lost in transit (note this blog’s title picture). And only minutes later, another almost identical message showed up on my phone. Zero for two. The giddiness was replaced by disappointment, frustration, irritation, and to be honest, I was pretty sad.

I kept working while also processing the mixture of feelings moving through me. Of course there was that Little Red Hen, sort of snarky voice that popped up a few times: “That’s what you get for asking for help.”

I did my best to quell that voice and tried to consider practical next best steps. I checked in with my publisher, and we talked through the do’s and don’ts of packaging (e.g., do use lots of extra tape; don’t rely on the envelope’s self-seal), and then I checked in with others on the list slated to receive books. Since then, seven people sent messages or pictures letting me know their books arrived safely. Happy day. (Also, if and when you receive your book, I would love if you could let me know.)

What am I learning? (That’s my go-to question these days, especially when something goes differently than I expected or hoped.) I am learning that I have a lot to learn. Even though I am “old” with a “pretty wrinkly face” (according to my kids), that unfortunately does not seem to mean I am an expert at much, if anything. Sigh.

So today I am grateful for the reminder that I can always learn something new. It is important to have experiences that keep us humble, right? Now I am going to the post office to purchase a lot more tape, just in case.