I am still in something of a mood, and I really want to work, but none of these short stories are ripe, dammit. And trying to write them when they're not ripe only ends in tears and thrashing.
At least all thatemail is finally downloaded. Man, I have missed Eudora. Gmail is a lovely thing, but the user interface, I say after using it exclusively for two years, is ass.
Well, I see SFWA is embarrassing itself on the internets again. Come on, guys, you can do better than that.
So I guess my plan for the rest of the day, after spending ~3 hours dealing with post office bureaucratic incompetence this morning*, is to play guitar, read books, listen to too much Warren Zevon, and maybe do some math.
*I got not one but two "pick up your package" tags in my mailbox yesterday, one for each of my identities. So I forged my own signature on the "Elizabeth Bear" once, since her name doesn't actually appear on any of my ID, and trundled down to the post office to pick up the packages. Well, my local post office informed me that the tags were for the central Hartford PO, and to go there to get my package. I only had the vaguest idea of where to find it, but I eventually did (there was some driving in confusing parts of the city, and so forth, and did I mention is was hot and sunny and I had a headache?) and they looked at it and said, "You are not our zip code," and I said, "But this is your address on the card," and they went in back and looked. And found nothing. And sent me back to my post office.
So back I went (another 20 minutes driving in city traffic) and stood in line for twenty minutes for the third time, and made them go in back and look...
One (1) used compact disk. Which could have fit in my mailbox, or been left in the lobby, as the mail carrier NORMALLY does.
did I mention I was already stressed out and CRANKY?