Typical Sunday. Sort of...

Rough night with the arm. Not sure what’s going on, but hope it’s healing.

Good work on the long manuscript today, then a short trip to the gym. Got home, voted, treated myself to a latte from Starbucks, then went back to work, making submissions.

Received a long solicitous rejection from the Berkeley Fiction Review. Might have just been easier if they’d accepted the piece.

Calling it.

Dinner’s on the table.