I guess I’m thinking too much.
It occurred to me this morning that the Clarion acceptance contact I’ve been waiting for could be a letter in my PO box, which I haven’t checked since Thursday, so I hitched the trail bike to my cheapo boardwalker, and Mr. B (my child) and I pedaled on down to the post office.
“Oh, my legs!” he wailed at some point. Anyway, no letter in the mail. I know that some lucky folks like Jordan Lapp have been contacted via phone call, but I’m thinking that may be a Clarion West thing. I have it in my head that the Clarion SD contact will be emailed/written. Correct me if I’m wrong!
But alas, nothing of note in the PO box so far. On the upside, while I was at the post office, I finally mailed the contract for the academic volume I’m editing to my collaborators so they can sign it, too. Nothing much is happening with that, so I keep forgetting about it.
Then back home to return to repeatedly checking my email in case there’s a notification in there. I also discovered a tidbit that might appeal to other Clarion hopefuls who are sitting around biting their collective fingernails. Clarion’s website suggests reading Kate Wilhelm’s The Storyteller while waiting, and a large portion of it can be found for free here. Or you can pay $16 for it.
I also tooled around in my garden today and got my toes dirty, which always forces me to slow down. It reassures me, too, that life goes on, however cheesy that sounds. I went back and listened to the UU service about springtime that I did last Sunday, which you can listen to here if you like, mortified as always by the weird sound of my own voice. There’s probably a scientific reason why we don’t sound the same way to ourselves as we do to other people, just like a kind of body dysmorphia where we don’t perceive ourselves the same way others see us.
Mentally rambling, that’s been my day. Just trying not to think about it as much by keeping busy.