Nothing is worse than waiting for an e-mail that won't come. And I have absolutely no patience for that sort of thing anyway. I want my instant gratification, and I want it NOW, dammit!
I've been waiting since Friday to hear from this dude who effectively holds my life in his hands (well, not really, but that's how it feels) and he just. Won't. Write. The bastard. So I check my e-mail every fifteen minutes, thinking, "Hmmm...maybe he sent it, like, right after I opened my inbox, so it didn't show up, but it's there now!" I'm pathetic, I know it. I'll never rule the world at this rate.
Compounding this anxiety is the fact that I finally have a literary agent interested in my book! I say 'finally', but it really hasn't been that long. I mean, it's been about two months since I sent away my inquiries, but it was my first round of them, so I'm really not doing so bad in that department. The point is that they want me to send sample chapters and a synopsis, and now I'm freaking out, like, "What if my synopsis is bad? What if misspell 'synopsis' and they toss it away in disgust without even reading it? What if my computer melts down, rendering me unable to write the synopsis, and the window of opportunity slams shut on my dreams forever and I'm stuck in a hollow, empty, meaningless existence, and I end up living all alone in a tiny apartment with 52 parakeets, and everybody calls me 'The Bird Man', and then I drop dead one afternoon, but no one notices and I just lie there on the floor for weeks until the landlord finally shows up to evict me for non-payment of rent?" These are pressing concerns, people!
Oh shit, I'd better get cracking.