In other words, I'm working. Not sitting back and drinking champagne (well, I don't drink champagne, anyway), or out celebrating with friends or kicking back and relaxing. In fact, my work has ramped up so much in the past few days that I have very little free time, if any.
And before you shake your head at me and accuse me of complaining, or maybe feeling sorry for myself -- just know that I'm not, and that I don't. Firstly, because I know how fortunate I am to be in this position (and I know how many years it took!). And secondly, because this is work I do gladly. It's work I ADORE. I'd rather edit/write than just about anything else. It's hard, hard mental labor, but it's also (to put it into a nauseating cliche) a labor of love.
So, back to my main point -- I haven't really had time to digest the fact that I have an agent. And yes, I still catch myself thinking that he'll email me and say he's changed his mind - that he doesn't want to represent me anymore. I know that won't happen (he's so enthusiastic about my book!), but having experience Rejected Writer's Syndrome for years, it's difficult to make myself believe it's real.
Maybe one of these days, when I actually look up from my keyboard for a few seconds, I'll start to believe it....lol.