ismo

Well, that was the zippiest rejection in history, I do believe. By the time I went to bed last night, my story was turned down. I appreciate the despatch and efficiency. But it is kind of like buying a lottery ticket on the day of the drawing. It doesn't give you much time to experience those hopeful feelings before they're decisively done away with. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to keep my head up as well as I'd planned. A lot of feelings I'm not going to go into at the moment, plus stomach pain, drove me back downstairs to keep myself awake until I was too tired to have thoughts. That was about 3 am--the usual. So I didn't have enough sleep, didn't fill out my grocery order, etc. Was generally useless. Our weekly Zoom with Deb and the Prussian was a bright spot, as always.

Later in the afternoon, the Sparrowhawk urged me to take a nap. This almost never works, but I was too discouraged to be obstinate, so I gave it a try. The kids were having a flurry of group texts during the process, which woke me up from time to time with the buzzing and pinging. The best thing I heard all day was the news from Tron that they tried a new source for grocery deliveries, and accidentally ordered FOURTEEN BUNCHES of bananas instead of fourteen bananas! She sent pictures. Forgot to mention that while still feeling effective from submitting my story, I finally ordered some new underwear--utilitarian, but hopefully presentable enough in case I end up arrested or in the hospital. One would hate to meet destiny in knackered knickers. When in disgrace with fortune and my pants . . . . While I was at it, I bought a couple of rolls of washi tape, because shiny. Now they keep sending me alluring pictures of more and yet more washi tape. Oh dear. IT'S LIKE CRACK.