Lackey! Get These Proofs out to the Coast Now!

The mailman’s okay. He came at about 6:40. Like estranged celebrity spouses at the Academy Awards, he and the UPS guy had a carefully choreographed near-miss. So I can stop worrying about him, and go back to my obsessive and unrealistic hope that the FedEx person will stop by my house. It’s not that I’m into the driver; I’ve never even laid eyes on him or her. I just want to be the kind of writer who’s important enough to have materials rushed to her doorstep.