I gotta get to bed, stat.
But I finished the majority of the (hopefully) last changes to this draft of the hummingbirds. Now it's in the hands of an editor. I'm hoping she is able to root out my chronic hypercommalia.
And, as though heralding the rebirth to be, Sonora Review turned down the last draft of this essay, completely impersonally. Not even a "we liked parts of this, but." I really hope it is worth saving.