In my Real Job, I spend a lot of time making sure things are perfect. I draft contracts, and review deals, and negotiate terms, and my mistakes can end up costing my company money. (That doesn't mean I don't make mistakes, by the way. I'm not a god. Unless I work with you, in which case, I've never made a mistake in my life, and no, you still cannot do whatever it is that you wanted to do that I already told you not to do.)
Naturally, this precision seeps into the rest of my life and, of course, my writing and querying process. I have #9 envelopes so that my SASE fits neatly into my #10 envelopes. My drafts are labeled and numbered and saved to CD. My pens are sorted by color, type (felt, ball, fountain), and line width. (No, I'm not kidding.)
Anyway, the other day, I got a request for a full from an agent who's already seen a partial. YAY! I print the whole thing out, put it in a folder, and take it to work (we have a post office in the building), where I get it weighed, put it in an envelope with the proper postage, and mail it off. TA DA!
And then, a day later, I pull out the folder the manuscript was in to use it for something else...
...and there is a page of my manuscript.
And not just any page, not just some page from the middle of the book that can be easily overlooked, but the LAST PAGE, the page that concludes the whole damn book, containing my main character's final scene, culminating in my clever (but not too clever) last line.
Could I be more lame? (Or more Chandler Bing?)
Now I get to send another letter to this agent and say "um...hi. Remember me? You, um, requested a full from me? Remember? Yeah, um...it wasn't exactly full. So...here's the last page, and pleasemakemeanoffer. Thanks!"
I am such a dork.