Tuesday night, I put the finishing touches on my first short story in ages, a darkly comedic caper story titled Action. First thing Wednesday morning, I dropped it in the mail, feeling pretty good about myself for getting it out the door so quickly.
Then my entire day went to shit.
Okay, that might be a slight overstatement, but suffice to say, yesterday wasn't my favorite day ever. And to make matters worse, some wildly superstitious part of my brain (which, if I'm being honest, is pretty much the whole damn thing) is convinced that yesterday's bad vibes are gonna sour my submission. Of course, I suppose it could be argued (by one as insanely superstitious as I apparently am) that my lousy day was due to the fact that I spent all my luck on what is sure to be a charmed submission. Or that I'm nuts for fretting over something as nebulous and potentially nonexistent as bad juju. Concerning the former, it's possible, and as for the latter, I know I am. But still, it doesn't stop the fretting.
Of course, maybe I should heed the words of the great Barry Adamson: "The vibes ain't nothing but the vibes." I guess now all I can do is wait and see.