My girlfriend and I were driving around in a new Mini Cooper today. I was really excited for her as she finally got to test drive the car she's wanted for a long time now. I laughed as she fumbled her way around the car's controls, flipping the wipers on, front and back and leaving them on while simultaneously messing with the heated seats while turning down the AC to nipple-arousing temps; and generally forgetting why she was driving the car in the first place. And while this made me very happy, there was something else on my mind: an envelope on the kitchen table at home.
My query is in the mail tonight, on its way to Mr. Matt Bialer in the Big Apple. I have had this literary agent in mind for some time now (his list of clients is quite respectable). Afterwards, I was reading some things from a couple of writers, and I feel like I made a great decision. There was not one indecent quip mentioned in regards to Matt on the internet.
All in all, I feel really happy with my submission. I really polished it up on the last day. Pride is difficult to have while I've yet to discover success, but I feel confident. I'm excited! I'm okay with that.