You guys! For, like, a week I've been worried about something. Something small and easily discoverable, but if discovered to be true it would become something big and stupid. So I've avoided discovering it. I'd rather worry that I messed up than know I messed up. Wouldn't you? Because then there is always the chance that I didn't mess up.
I had to know, though.
I had to know whether or not I had neglected to put my phone number in my contact information on the cover letter I sent with my picture book manuscript. Duh! But I honestly couldn't remember even thinking about it until well after I'd mailed the darn thing.
This morning I got up early and chopped veggies so the beef stew could cook for 11 hours on low instead of 5.5 hours on high, and since it was quiet and calm and dark it seemed like a good time to either squelch the worry or learn a lesson for next time. Either way, I could stop worrying. I opened Word. I opened coverletter.docx. I scrolled down to the bottom...
I'm not a doofus. Well, not all the time. And not when I mailed my awesome poem that any publisher would be lucky to have and turn into a picture book for preschool-age children. Now I'll know, when they don't call by April, that it was because they don't love me like they should, and not because they just couldn't find my number.