It’s 6 a.m. This would…

It's 6 a.m. This would be good if I had chosen (in a disciplined fashion) to wake up this early in order to work. This is not good, since I actually was woken up by an unpleasant dream (in which I was giving my father what for, for a lot of things that aren't actually his fault, but it was apparently fun blaming him anyway) and couldn't make it back to sleep. Sigh.

It's okay, though, because I was supposed to finish this batch of rejections by 6/15, and it's now 6/16, and I have 87 to go. Sigh.

I can't be all bummed, though, because I did have a nice dinner last night. I took BART into the city and met up with Alex H. (American Alex, as opposed to British Alex or Russian Alex), his sweetie Amber, his brother Michael, and Michael's friend Beth. 'Friend' is a slightly misleading term there, but we'll let it stand 'cause I'm tired. Anyway, it was lovely seeing Alex again, and I was delighted to meet Amber. They've apparently been going out a year now, and I was just really pleased to find out that she was nice and smart and sweet and funny. Excellent. Alex needed to find a nice girl; I'm so glad he did. Fingers crossed for them.

Back to work. Sigh. It's not that rejection letters are actually time-consuming -- it's that they're emotionally draining to write. I keep thinking of the poor writers I'm sending them to; I can't seem to just crank them out in good factory-line fashion.