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By Emma Philbrook
The Times 

EMMA PHILBROOK: STUDENT LIFE

Just Another Monday

 


I sat in the living room thumbing through a seed catalog. I contemplated ripping out the order form and sending for a few choice varieties of tomato when I remembered that I would be heading off for college right before they were in season.

The floor was littered with shreds of wrapping paper. A brother and a couple assorted cousins were sprawled on the floor and furniture. A paused frame from the credits of a Christmas movie flickered on a TV screen.

It was getting warm, and I was getting bored.

Both of those changed when Mom walked in the front door, sending a blast of near-freezing air into the room.

"Emma, I just remembered something that you're not gonna like."

"Mm?"

"Your column."

I immediately started hyperventilating. I shot out of my chair and began pacing, all the while rubbing my temples and blinking in shock.

"Don't worry," Mom said. "You don't really need it in until tomorrow morning, right?"

"No. No. It's over the holidays, so it went to press this afternoon."

'This Afternoon' was the kicker. By this time, the smell of dinner was wafting down from the kitchen. A pitch-black sky lurked outside the drapes.

"Well, no. You can still send it in, right?"

"You don't understand, Mom. It's printed. The ink is dry. The bundles are packed. I am doomed."

"Well if you write it tonight – "

"Mom, we're up against the laws of physics here."

Mom grunted.

"Well," she said, "go check your computer. The editor must have sent you an e-mail if it was that bad."

I dashed to the computer room, kicked a confused-looking uncle out of the computer chair, and hurriedly opened up my e-mail account.

"Oh no...there's...nothing."

I didn't have a single new message.

"You must be okay then! Go ahead and start typing."

"No. Look. We're too late. There's an e-mail in here somewhere that says they go to press early."

I scouted around the list of messages.

"Oh dear. He told me about this two weeks before, and I just got so distracted by the holiday, and oh my goodness, oh my goodness..."

"Oh. There. Here's one called 'Just a Heads Up'," said Mom. "That must be it."

"See?" I said. "Right here it says that they need it by Monday morning."

"No problem," said Mom. "Today's Sunday."

"Sunday? It's Sunday? Not Monday after all?"

I was so relieved that I fainted into the keyboard.

 

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