I can't do anything the stress-free way. I was drafting up my email to the publisher in which I introduced myself and my story and would attach my synopsis and novella. A strange series of funky keystrokes sent my email on its way after I had only sketched out two sentences and before I had attached anything. I damn near had a heart attack. So I had to hurry my way through the full email and the last few reviews of things I wanted to do to send a complete submission off as soon as possible after my stupid incomplete thing.
I feel like such an idiot.
I'm really trying not to let this mar the high I've been on with this story this week, but it's very hard. Mostly because it just seems like a bad omen.
Grr. Stupid technology.
Bright side: PPR is off on submission and I am free to return to sanity and THUMB. And there was much rejoicing.