the other day, i signed with a literary agent. this is my second. it is a sign of how jaded i have become about this process that i actually do not remember which day this was.
the first time there was champagne. this time, i was like yeah, he seems good. why the hell not? it's got to be better than nothing.
today, i actually had the thought: oh no. what if he doesn't work out and i need to get a THIRD literary agent?! then i'll have had three agents by the age of 36!!!
before drawing consolation in the fact that there are people who've had three marriages by the age of 36 so, surely, i could survive three agents if it comes to that.