Ho hum

Wednesday. Wednesday. Wednesday.

I got nothin’.

I have corrections to make on a novella so my agent can submit it.

I have worrying to do over the books the agent sent off to editors in NYC. A whole bunch of big editors are reading it and I have a long wait ahead of me. Oh dear. Not big like fat, big like important. Please, Important Editors, don’t think for one minute I was calling you fat. I’m sure you are ideally svelte. And smart. And you know funny, charming books when you read them. My agent is dying to hear from you. I think I might start drinking.

There are 15 days until I go on vacation and it feels like 15 months.

It’s supposed to get cold this weekend and none of my fat winter-clothes fit.

I just signed up with Pinterst. I fear that I will never get anything done ever again. I added a button (all by myself!) on the right if you want to follow me while I screw around.

Sigh. Wednesday’s are always like this.