Aaaaah, Ive got email problems. There are probably thousands of acceptances awaiting my perusal that I can't access. Or hundreds. Or three. Maybe one, if I'm lucky. The potential for good news held in some electronic limbo allows me to imagine all sorts of wild, writing-related scenarios. Possibly there's the chance of a lifetime sitting snug in my inbox, but I have to respond by exactly 11.58 today for it to happen, and thus my life, even as I write this, is being diverted down a different, drearier path, while a me in a parallel universe has just accessed her emails, promptly sent a reply, and is now whooping with joy.
Of course, I'm happy for her (cow!), but I'd rather be the whooper. I hope this situation is fixed before I get the shakes.
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