I wake up on d-day, go downstairs, take a nice shower, dress, have a cup of coffee, eat a bagel, read the paper, check the date from the paper, yell in excitement, check the mailbox, yell in excitement, take the letter of arrival, run to the yard, start my moped, drive to the post office, get stopped by the police, take the ticket from the police, arrive at the post office, queue, give the letter to the post officer, get the package, squeeze and admire the package, put the package firmly in my pocket, get out of the post office, drive home, get another ticket, don't care about the tickets, arrive at home, run upstairs, start the Playstation 3, open the package, slide the game on my hands, shoot myself in the head when I realize it's a Gran Turismo 4, not 5.