Yay, poem! I look forward to reading that poetry journal, in a sometime future where I don't live in World (alternatively, and amusingly, known as Other), a strange land where the postage is always phenomenally exorbitant. I blame it on the bordering elf-lands.

This week has filled itself with a small flurry of rejection emails: poetry, postdoc, telescope proposal. I furiously combated it yesterday by writing a poem about a postapocalyptic musterer who has to deal with cyborg kea going after his sheep. It redeemed the day somewhat.