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A letter I have been waiting for came in the mail today. I waited to open it ‘til Todd got home, a sort of celebratory thing, you know?

He looked through the mail when he walked in and said, “Library of Congress.”

I said, “Yeah, kind of feels like I’m a real writer,” as I was putting away the groceries he’d picked up after he took me to get my car from the car shop, after he finished work. My car now has snow tires. He’s such a good husband. And helpful.

When I was ready for the little celebratory moment, the letter wasn’t on the kitchen table where I had left it. And it wasn’t on the desk where I thought he might have placed it to protect it from water rings.

“Honey!” I yelled upstairs as he was changing his clothes. “Where’s my letter?”

“What letter?”

“The letter from the government!”

“I didn’t see it.”

“Yes, you did. “


“It must be in the recycling.”

“What?! Didn’t you hear me? You said, ‘a letter from the government.’ I said, ‘yeah, I’m a real writer.’”

More silence.

“Check the recycling.”

“The recycling! Did you take it out?” Tomorrow is recycling day.


Well, thank goodness for that.

And that’s the story of receiving the Certificate issued under the seal of the Copyright Office in accordance with title 17, United States Code, attesting that registration has been made for the work identified below.

Title of work: Not According to Plan

Year of completion: 2022

They say we’re supposed to celebrate the small things as writer’s.

Thanks for sharing it with me. And thanks to one great writing coach, Laurie Scheer, who kept me writing forward. Cheers!

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