Highs and Lows

Yesterday, something remarkable happened. I emailed a literary agent, a woman who represented another book I loved. I told her I thought she had good taste and sent her a brief pitch for my rugby book from grad school. A few hours later,

SHE CALLED ME! on. the. PHONE!

A literary agent! On my phone! We talked about her daughter playing lacrosse and then she asked for my proposal and sample chapters. I was in the middle of an episode of My So-Called Life (the one where Angela goes into the boiler room with Jordan) and eating a tomato from the grocery store when the phone rang and it was a literary agent. To discuss my book!

I immediately hung up, put lunch on hold, and sat at my desk for 3.5 hours revising my proposal and chapter outline. I hope I made it better and not worse. Anyway, such things just never ever happen in real life. It must have been a dream.

Because...

today I had teacher orientation for a gender class I'm teaching this fall. I noted the ominous thunder and opted not to ride Etienne. I hopped in the car, parked in the garage where I'd be comped parking, and realized I had not brought an umbrella or even remembered to shut the front door of my house. I had to sprint through the downpour into the Cathedral, total paranoia about thieves taking over my concerns of wet, white dress shirts and big bosoms like mine.

I squished up the stairs with transparent "professional" clothes, dripping hair, and swampy skirt. I felt slightly better when another new instructor showed up equally wet, although his bald head meant less drippings from hair onto forms.

Another woman there with a raincoat and umbrella kept saying, loudly, "Oh, this is just awful. Look at my coat dripping on the floor! I'm making such a mess here." I wanted to take her dry, starched shirt from her inconsiderate body and use it to cover my near-nudity. Instead, I let the heat of my embarrassment dry my clothes. This is more like my life, I thought, and ate an entire bowl of pretzel twists. When I got home, my house was not robber, but the sofa was a bit wet where the rain blew in the screen door.