...I love the smell of rejection in the morning.
I suppose, for all of you curious people out there, I should unpack that statement a little bit. I got rejection e-mails this morning, immediately after I'd woken up and right before my lamp critique, that all of the poems I submitted to the Minnemingo Review were rejected. Yep, rejected. I can't quite decide if I'm bitter, apathetic, or merely insecure. I'm going to the 'unveiling' of it though, to see what it's like. If someone will go with me.
I should now totally get back to my paper which is due tomorrow, and I started it (a new record!) at 9:30 tonight. That's two hours later than last time. I don't think I'm going to tempt fate and make it any later. It should only take me.... Oh... till bed time to finish it? After which I may just go work on my sculpture and get less sleep. I can always catch up on reading day right? Because that's totally what it's for.
And, in case you're wondering, my blisters don't hurt anymore, and my hand and arm practically don't at all.
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