May 11, 2015 began like any ordinary work day. Up at 4:30 am, hair and make-up completed by braille, dogs fed, Hubster fed, and backed the car out of the garage by 5:20. Cruised to work on auto-pilot. Noticing the Blue Bandit was low on fuel, and that I was a few minutes ahead of schedule because of light traffic, I decided to fill the gas tank after I had already turned in the opposite direction of the station.
As I drove down the dark road, I passed a sneaky sheriff deputy parked in the median with his lights off. Hubster thinks I drive like a bat-out-of-hell, so I prudently checked the speedometer and wondered where he gets those ridiculous notions. At the first opportunity, I u-turned and puttered back by the deputy’s car. Hahaha! I hoped he didn’t think I was driving suspiciously.
Stopped at the intersection, I figured out that I was in the wrong lane, and turned right on red which is allowable in Florida, but with the PoPo lurking I got a little nervous. I finally made it to the gas pump and fished for my purse, only to come up empty-handed.
Oh, crap! No purse meant no wallet, no driver’s license, no insurance card. AND, a block away sat a sheriff deputy who could probably sense my catastrophe.
Paranoia set in. I’m going to get a ticket, I’m going to get a ticket, and I’m going to run out of gas on the home way. Because, when I say the Blue Bandit is low on gas, what I really mean is “The gas fumes are about to run out, y’all.”
Inching the Blue Bandit past the deputy for the third time, I aimed my best Jedi mind vibe at him. “This isn’t the suspicious car you’re looking for. She can go about her business. Let her move along.”
Petrified, I arrived at TDJ without incident and reached for my phone to call Hubster. My blood congealed. Not only had I forgotten my purse, I’d left my phone on the kitchen counter.
I was unplugged from the universe at large. How would I get through the day without a watching a cat video on Facebook? Or checking personal email? Oh, my God! I wouldn’t get any text messages.
I was facing a technological zombie apocalypse. My guardian fairies refused to materialize my phone, no matter how much I begged through-out the day.
At the end of the work day, I thought, “Hahaha! Wouldn’t it be funny if today, of all days, was the day I got THE CALL and didn’t have my phone to answer it?”
I laughed all the way home. (It could’ve been the gas fumes.)
In IM withdrawal, the first thing I did when I entered the house was treasure-hunt my phone. I might’ve hugged and kissed it, but I can’t be sure because I got distracted by the missed call from a strange number and the glaring voice mail alert. Thinking a telemarketer had called, I hit play to clear the message.
Then I heard Ann Leslie Tuttle’s message and I nearly dropped my Precious, errr my phone because Oh my freaking God! , Harlequin Nocturne’s Senior Editor had called.
“It’s Harlequin! It’s Harlequin!” I knocked Hubster on the shoulder hard enough to push him over and interrupt his live video gaming.
Hubster remarked, “I don’t read romance, but even I know who Harlequin is. This is good, yeah?”
“This is very good!”
In my excitement, I couldn’t hear the phone number Ann Leslie provided, so I needed to replay the message. Only, I accidentally deleted it instead.
Holy crap! I lost my very first CALL message. Oh, the horror. Oh the devastation!
Oh, the lack of sympathy from Hubster, who snarked, “How did you lose the message all ready? Wait, I forgot who I’m talking to.”
Running around the kitchen, I hollered, “What do I do? What do I do?”
Hubster said, “Hit the call back for the missed call.”
Oh, yeah. I knew that. Apparently unexpected excitement turns me stupid.
I immediately connected with Ann Leslie, and my day ended on a higher note than it had started. I’m pleased to announce that I have sold my paranormal manuscript HOWLIN’ HEARTS to Harlequin Nocturne in a two-book deal.
So, even bad starts can lead to big grins. And, I haven’t stopped grinning yet.
In further news, after a pow-wow with our cell service provider, Hubster was able to restore my deleted CALL message which is now hanging in a place of honor in my “cloud.”