Friday, May 20, 2011

A post about (gotta do the laundry) about (answer the phone) about DISTRACTION.

"Any occurrence requiring undivided attention will be accompanied by a compelling distraction." Robert Bloch

The plan for this morning was simple: get up early, work on the novel. Or a short story. Or at least write a couple articles for the upcoming website launch. Easy-peasy, as my colleague Pat puts it.

Apparently the act of getting out of bed, pouring coffee and scuffling over to the laptop created a cosmic wave that set certain distractions into motion:
  • Chloe, my spoiled parrot *sigh* with the huge vocabulary (most of it food related), began informing me that she "Want peanut butter. Want cracker. Want peanut butter cracker. Want apple. Want cheese. Hello? Want toast. With butter." Distracting much?
  • My cell phone rang and I wondered, as it vibrated off the table and jiggled around on the floor, why I ever thought that a ring tone created by Shania Twain was really 'Me'?
  • The wild goldfinches outside the window held up a note which read: FEED US NOW OR THE CAR GETS IT. (Ok, there wasn't an actual note, but I could read it on their faces.)
  • I had an overwhelming urge to read SPAM from Nigeria, just so I could laugh at their pathetic attempts to scam me. (This might be classified as Procrastination, rather than Distraction.)
  • Dear hubby went to the market (always dangerous) and brought back four dozen white chocolate/macadamia cookies...because they were on sale. As I gazed at them, I realized that EAT ME NOW is spelled out in nuts on each one.
  • I am addicted to coffee. Therefore, I am required to refill my mug often while writing. While trying to write. While thinking about writing.
  • Yes, you guessed it. All that coffee means...
  • After returning from the bathroom, I am usually waylaid by the house elf, reminding me that he is on strike until I start paying him higher wages. I remind him that I can't pay till I earn, and I can't earn till I write, and I can't write till I finish cleaning. (Actually, the house elf is just wishful thinking.)
So, if you don't see frequent updates to this blog, you can understand the situation. Maybe you can even send some pity my way. Or loan me your house elf. Or convince my husband that you don't have to buy cookies just because they're $1.25 a dozen. Ok, it was a good deal. And they are yummy. Maybe just one more and then I'll be ready to write. After I fill my mug. And get Chloe a cracker. With butter.