After a slight panic attack today, picturing boxes of my books slung unopened in the corner of some stranger's garage, I decided that I'd waited as long as I could. So I emailed someone at my publisher to see if they could track my books and see whose garage they ended up in.
Fortunately, the answer is not as complicated as the garage scenario.
Apparently there was some confusion and I was given the date the books were being shipped from the printer to the publisher, not the publisher to me. So... they're still a couple of weeks out.
Patience, grasshopper. Patience, grasshopper. (It's my new mantra.)
It could be worse. At least I won't be arrested for being caught prowling around my neighbor's garages at night.