Yesterday, as Stacey and I
Yesterday, as Stacey and I were driving home from work, I wondered aloud whether there would be any good mail waiting for us at home. Stacey rather reasonably reminded me that no matter how often I wonder whether there will be any good mail, all we ever actually get are (a) bills, (b) credit card solicitations, (c) bills, (d) the Penny Pincher or whatever the four-seconds-from-my-hand-to-the-trash local coupon rag is called, (e) bills, and (f) the Hollywood Reporter weekly edition. Of those things, only the Reporter qualifies as good mail, and since that comes on the same day every week, it's not really the sort of good mail surprise I was hoping for.
And yet, yesterday, I remained optimistic. Of course, I had no idea I would receive word that my script, Monkeywrench, has advanced to the quarterfinal round of the Nicholl Fellowhip. But that's what happened.
But that pretty much uses up our good mail allowance for the month.
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