Distractions, Distractions

Progress Meter Courtesy of Writertopia

If I actually get to the point of not distracting myself, then the world intrudes to distract me, again and again. Phone calls, emails, worries, comments, requests, issues, issues, issues ...

I've been trying to write since 9 a.m. It's 2:30 p.m. and I've managed all of 530 words. Usually, I write that much in 20 minutes (I'm a fast typist). Now, I'm so tense and angry and worried about falling too far behind that I can barely spare a patient word to my son, who wanted to come in and talk to me about the house he's building on the Sims. He said, "You look annoyed." I explained and apologized. Of course, it helped ease my guilt that he'd come into my room to swipe some chocolate candy as much, if not more, to talk to me. Even so, I hate having my patience so exhausted that I have none left for my kids.

Cripes!

And I've lost my place in the story. I've lost my place in the plot. I've gotten lost, period. There will be lots of rewrite, lots and lots of rewrite to this one. Anyone, back to the grind, before another interruption strikes.