Just a few hours after being told that I'm going to have to take a pay cut and go from stocking shelves to cleaning toilets if I want to have a job tomorrow, I got an e-mail from Encyclopedia Britannica's editors.
I had told them a week or two ago that I had done some research on William Longespee, Third Earl of Salisbury, that had synthesized more information in one source than nearly every biographical blurb I had ever found about him (including their own sparse page about him).
The focus of my research has been both in the synthesis of biographical material and in the argument for his being at the center of a sort of undercurrent of mythmaking that began shortly after he died and has continued well into the present, with Count William morphing from a medieval diplomat to an archetypal knight in shining armor.
Long story short, the editors at Britannica want to have a look at my research!
Life lately has been a roller coaster when what I need is a rocket. If Britannica finds my research useful, then I'll have contributed to one of the most respected and authoritative reference sources in the English Language. Why am I still doing menial jobs?!? Something's got to give.