Okay, this is the title of one of my favorite stories by Richard Yates, and if you haven't read his short stories, you are missing something.
But this post is to rant, because I'm so tired, tired of waiting, tired of waiting for these damn magazines that take for freaking ever to respond to story submissions. You send out your work and then wait and wait and wait, often to be rewarded months later by a fucking form rejection. Every morning I open my computer breathlessly to check my email (all my submissions at the moment are electronic) and all I get are Facebook things and bill statements and ads from Land's End or Amazon.
But it's going to rain in L.A.! Yay! Yay!