And typically, Monday throws me about eight curve balls, all directed straight at my nose, at the same time.
Ninja cat struck again this morning. I think I'm going to fill his food bowl every night before bed so he won't attack my feet predawn anymore. I need the sleep.
I had to run a series of tiny but important errands, and that ate up half my morning. I had to pay bills, balance the checkbook, and do the same for the Girl Scout cookie money. We're almost done with that, at least.
Every Sunday night, I get excited for the peace and quiet of a Monday morning. I imagine myself sitting down at the computer and writing or editing for six hours straight. Then Monday strikes, and I don't even get to glance at my WIP until early afternoon. All I can hope is that Tuesday will be better. Monday night I find myself grateful it's all over, and I know Tuesday will surely be better. And it usually is.
I'm about to go undertake another first for me. I'm going to resubmit a revised manuscript to an agent who suggested some changes. I just hope she still wants to see it, and that she thinks it's better now. This is a huge nail-biter for me. She left the door open for me, but if she doesn't like my changes, I'll be burning a bridge if I submit now. But I like the changes, and if she wants it different still, she could always ask for more. At least she'll know I'm quick on the turnaround, and willing to make changes. Double-edged sword. I think it's worth a shot, though.
I refuse to give myself ulcers worrying about things like this anymore. I think that's the healthiest view I could possibly take. With that bit of encouragement, I'm off to send the Email of No Return.