Most people have it within their genetic makeup to expect things to happen in certain order. For example, if you order a couple of things, and then you order some more stuff a week or two later, you expect to get the stuff you ordered first before the second order. There’s a certain logic to that.

Logic seems to go out the window when it comes to ordering from Amazon. People are worried about artificial intelligence destroying the world, but I think voodoo’s probably going to beat the machine revolution to the punch. I’ve seen recent orders from Amazon separated and then mixed together like something out of a dark priest’s cauldron, and it has me wondering if the overseers for the company drank too much of the jungle juice.

Let’s start at the beginning. Not long after seeing Masters of the Universe in theaters, I saw that Amazon had the DVD available for pre-order, so I immediately secured one to be delivered after the DVDs officially went on the market Oct. 20. This was June, but obviously I knew I wouldn’t be getting it for months, and I was fine with that.

Fast forward to September, when the UntitledTown book festival took place in Green Bay. I sold out for six of my titles, which is pretty cool, since I’m getting close to having 30 different books in my repertoire. After the festival ended, I ordered two copies of each of those titles, and when I was done, I received an email saying the books would be delivered between Oct. 16 and Oct. 23.

This was to be expected, as I’ve previously had a lag time of two to four weeks, but one thing I noticed was that one of the titles, Night of the Hodag, was a separate order from the others. It’s not the first time this has happened when I order new copies of my books, but it seems odd that you wouldn’t just print them all with one printer at one location and ship them all in one package, thus saving money.

What do I know, though?

Shortly after the festival ended, I finished all the editing and proofreading to publish my latest novel, The Fantastic Fireside Tale of Mrs. Claus, available to purchase Nov. 10. I immediately ordered copies, knowing the lag time for printing the books and then delivering them. The email response told me the books would get to me Nov. 5, a few days before Amazon could start selling them.

Earlier this week, another book caught my eye on Amazon, Saddles and Snowstorms by Atreus Rosewood. I read the sample pages and was caught up in the story, so I ordered the book. In that same order, I also bought some bedding that I’ve been wanting.

After that, things went wonky—and I’m talking really wonky.

Oct. 16 passed and I didn’t see any notification that my restock of books had shipped. I wasn’t too worried at first because there was a range for delivery that ended today, Oct. 23.

Shortly after that, though, I got notification that the copies for the Mrs. Claus book would be arriving ahead of schedule. Instead of Nov. 5, I’m supposed to get them Oct. 29, a week earlier. That worked for me.

Then a couple of days ago, I was notified an order had shipped. However, it was one set of books, not Night of the Hodag, listed individually instead of the two I order, along with the Masters of the Universe DVD and the book was Atreus Rosewood, which I am currently waiting for today’s mail to deliver. The other restock books at the time were still listed to be delivered today when I got the email, but there was no additional notice.

Then I got two emails telling me that the other restock books that were supposed to be delivered in three and a half weeks would now not be arriving until Nov. 18. No explanation why. Wait. What? I ordered them at the end of September, and now they won’t be here until mid-November? Which high priest made that decision?

My latest email also let me know the bedding, now all alone, would be delivered a day ahead of time—tomorrow. Yippee skippy.

Before anyone suggests, “Well, maybe it’s just you,” I just saw a Facebook post from a friend of mine, Ryan Krause aka the fabulous drag queen Rachel Vanderz. He ordered a 10-ply orange ostrich feather boa for $79.99, and it arrived looking like one of the cheapy knock-offs I’ve gotten at Pride festivals. Needless to say, his fabulousness is returning it. You do not give a drag queen cheap attire, or they commit their own acts of voodoo.

Real Americans are seeking jobs every day. Maybe Amazon should hire some of these folks to manage orders and let the voodoo priests go.