How are you feeling?

Got my full MS out to the agent who requested it on Friday, which is a good thing since this week is already shaping up as the “week of no writing.” Too much other stuff going on, including days off for the kids for “teacher professional enrichment days.” Which makes me think of that Simpsons’ episode where the teachers are partying at the ski lodge and doing the conga line dance during their “professional day.”

Also got a very nice rejection (for Polkadots) in which the agent called my pitch “both intelligent and intriguing,” but she’s “taking on close to nothing now.” The agent goes on to detail how harried and stressed out she is. Which made me feel bad for her, tempting me to recommend some stress-reducing herbal remedies and maybe even some Zoloft.

Or better yet, let’s get her to send a video to Sen. Bill Frist so he can diagnose her and suggest appropriate treatment. In fact, I recommend Sen. Frist as the cure-all to our nation’s health care woes. To hell with going to see your doctor, just send a tape to Frist, just like you were auditioning for Survivor, and he’ll tell you what’s wrong with you. Put all those HMOs out of business, and just name the kindly doctor as the nation’s Physician Laureate. So what if he sees that blemish on your face (or dust on the camera lens!) as the Bubonic Plague, we’ll save billions!

The only downside to this is that the old boy may get a bit jaded with being the only doc in town and take on a Simon Cowell complex. We’ll just have to get used to the insults—“You think that tie looks good with that Port Wine stain? Please!” and… “Is all America waiting to hear your whiny complaints about your lumbago? I don’t think so!”—with the diagnoses…

Only in America, right? Janet – No power in the ’verse can stop me (except that tiny little misshapen mole…right…there…)