Send 'em out. Then forget 'em.

I'm in sendout limbo. This is when I'm supposed to shrug, say "The little birds have flown the nest, I've done my job," and get to cranking out more product. But I keep squinting into the hills, looking to see where the little birds have flown, and whether they will be bearing an olive branch when they fly back to me. And when, oh when, will they fly back to me?