Most of my work is done wearing blue jeans and a baseball cap, but during the editing process, a butcher's apron would be more appropriate. At least on a metaphorical level.

This week, I'll make one final pass before wiping the blood off my knives. And there's a lot of blood. Nine thousand words have been hacked out of the current book. It's dirty work, and when you're done, it would be nice to have some sort of cosmic sign of a job well done.

And there is nothing more cosmic than Girl Scout cookies.

I'd just finished a few edits bestowed upon me by my best friend, who just happens to be a professional copy editor. (She can never leave me. Ever. I swear to God, I'll tie her up like that guy in Misery.) Afterward I was heading out to run a few errands. Down the elevator to the garage I went, and what did I spy with my little eye? Two - count them, two - boxes of unopened Girl Scout cookies sitting next to the newspaper dispenser.

I approached cautiously. It could be a trap.

A sticky note was stuck to each box with the same message. "Free! I'm on a diet."

Could this be? Could it be true?

I snatched up the boxes - Thin Mints and Samoas - and checked for damage, tampering, dog pee. I sniffed. I prodded. I inspected. They were unopened and perfect. There is only one explanation.

Cookies from God.

It's a sign.

I clutched them to my chest and scampered to my car, pleased as punch. And then on the way out of Costco, I found a penny. Heads up.

It's gonna be a good week. I can feel it.