Yesterday morning I drove to a warehouse in Minneapolis to pick up the books I've been waiting to see since I started this project in the beginning of 2017. My emotions were all over the place as I walked through the door and handed my paperwork to the woman behind the glass plate.
"You need a release order," she said.
I didn't know what a release order was, but it meant I couldn't take my books home yet. Dejected, I got back in the car and drove to work, hoping I hadn't run into an unexpected expense or customs snafu.
I went to work and told my coworkers, "I feel like I'm running a ponzi scheme. I've been promising these books for so long, and so many people have trusted me with their money. I want to fulfill these promises."
Two hours later I got an email that the paperwork had been finished and the books were now available to pick up. I raced to my car and headed back to the warehouse. This time she handed me a new form and sent me into the loading area to get them. I watched for ten minutes as a forklift driver raced around with other cargo before my turn came.
I grabbed the first box and cut it open, not knowing what to expect. I'd seen pictures of the finished books, but I had no way to know that these boxes were correct, undamaged, and ready to release. I cut the tape with my multitool and felt a rush of relief. The books looked great!
Two dock workers helped me load the boxes into my van, which sat much lower to the ground that it had before. I went back to the car and snapped a few photos before going on my way.
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