Busy Day

Run into Serena at the park this morning--ground slushy, boots seem to have sprung a leak, Jenny being extremely pokey, and can't say that slept well at all last night--late to bed (after watching the oscars--eyes glued to tv set even though hadn't seen most of movies and didn't much care who won)--so late to bed, early to rise makes one maybe a wee bit grumpy and don't want to share feeling of grumpiness, so when see Serena standing in middle of field waving vigorously at me with throw toy, and when wave turns into a beckon, want to avoid conversation. Wave at Serena firmly and try to climb hill. Jenny sits down. Serena runs through snow, which looks dangerous--want to call over to her to be careful she doesn't slip, but don't, and she doesn't. She says she hasn't seen me for a long time. Say, No, and then can't think of another thing to say, and feel very rude. Serena kind as always, gives Jenny a treat, and thankfully ignores my lack of social graces. What follows is very quick sequence of events: Serena says she just saw her friend the editor the night before and was talking about me and the editor is expecting me to email her today. When get into work, do write the editor, including thumbnail sketch of book--brother and sister traveling together on archeological dig tourist trip to Cuzco, Peru, the poisoning by curare of Professor, the subsequent poisoning of Judy Maloney, and how the sister solves the mystery at the end. Within minutes receive email from editor who says why don't I send her what I have. I do send her what I have, not seeing any hitch in the plan until the messenger is well out of the building, carrying my manuscript through the slush. Alternate between visions of glory and excitement (this is why I was so interested in the Oscars last night! I am being prepared to win!--though this thought obviously delusional as have not written script, but instead murder mystery) and what tell self is the sober truth of the matter--book very poor and editor will certainly tell me so in regretful but firm tones. Invent speeches for the editor. Do not at all care for editor's tone and tell her so. Also, alternately, see self in minds eye receiving editor's rejection email with stoicism and resignation. Also see self responding to email with screaming and running through the halls, which am very impressed by, and think up many other equally shocking responses. Fantasies--both negative and positive are very consuming and am, for once, impervious to meetings, not needing to draw, pee, eat, or even leave. Am very busy living out alternate lives in head.