I've signed up for this seminar where you present part of your completed manuscript to a real live agent, who reads it and discusses its unlikely future with you. I will keep the subject of said manuscript a mystery, because it is still a mystery to me at this point. Unfortunately, my computer has been running like one of those old Macintoshes that people donate to poor kids, and is allowing me to type at a speed of two to three words per minute. This post, for example, took me two and a half hours to type. I have been taking cat naps when attempting to switch between my allotted two programs (I opened iTunes twenty-five minutes ago, and it just now opened). It appears the culprit may be spyware, but any attemp to rid my computer of these termites has resulted in the spyware program downloading more and more programs from the Internet, none of which have solved my computer problem.
I've decided to move my laptop into the kitchen, which seems dangerous because a) I keep getting distracted by boxes of food, and b) I just bought a new bikini, which I am supposed to wear in one week. However, it seems like a good idea to move the bulk of the work to somewhere other than my bed, somewhere that doesn't have a television.
Special note: I've moved the entire project into someone else's house, using an entirely different computer. There's no food or television within 20 feet of me, but there is a persistent flow of wine. It's a solid work-like environment because I am surrounded by books and some important-looking paper documents which might be someone's tax information. There are also some framed photographs from WWII, which just serve as a reminder that the entire library might come under siege at any moment. More updates as I become increasingly disillusioned.