I had my annual performance review today at work, which drifted off point when my boss asked me what I was up to with the Great Publisher Hunt. She just wanted an update and a promise she'd be one of the first to know when.

She said the same thing last year while Sha-Shana and I were fine-tuning the manuscript. And she said a variation the year before when I told her I'd finished writing a book and was considering looking for an agent.

I don't think it'll be a big issue of remembering to tell her. Journalists are nothing more than college-educated gossips with a slightly higher ethical standard. If I didn't tell her within ten minutes, she'd know anyway. The little pod near my desk is invested in this process almost as much as I am.

Exampe: Sha-Shana called on Wednesday morning. I said, "Oh, hey, Sha-Shana."

Work stopped on three different desks, and I swear Gayle started bouncing up and down in her chair because the agent was calling me at work!

False alarm. Didn't change the fact I had a few people come up to me through out the day and ask what my agent had to say.

Newsroom life. Who can beat it?