I just wanted to drop
I was in the family

Oh, the NaNo novel is

Oh, the NaNo novel is not going well. Not at all. Here it is, the tenth, and I’m at just over 7,000 words. This. Is. Not. A. Good. Thing.
And, I’ve decided, not my fault. See, I was going to catch up on a good chunk of writing today at Starbucks when I had my child-free Monday morning. And all was going well. Tre and Max were safely tucked into their classes at Hope. Raphael was in caring hands. I, well I’d taken a half hour out of my productive morning to go to the chiropractor, but this was a good thing. Trust me.
So there I was, kid-free and well adjusted (spinally, anyhow). I had a pumpkin scone and a cup of insanely strong coffee. I like to order the “bold” coffee of the day and sneer at them when they ask if I want room for cream. As if.
Anyhow, I sat my happily caffeinated little self down in the corner and pulled out my laptop. I pulled up the file and skimmed what I’d written so far. I frowned at it a moment, gave myself a little pep talk encouraging the prodigious writing of bad fiction. Don’t make it good, make it lengthy! I poised my fingers over the keys. I took a deep breath and typed “Eve was-“
“Hey, what kind of laptop is that?” Someone asked, clearly not noticing that great literature was happening. I glared at him, then made a show of looking at the big “DELL” written on it.
“Blue,” I said, “and grey.” He nodded, perhaps a bit confused. I went back to Eve.
“Are you on-line?” he persisted. I gave a deep sigh, blew my bangs out of my face, and looked at him.
“Oh, because you know this is a T-Mobile hot spot,” he said helpfully.
“It’s a fairly distracting spot too, apparently.”
“Heh, heh. Do you come here a lot? I think you were here last Monday.” He clearly wasn’t taking the hint, so I smiled at him and pulled out my big ammo, the great man deflector.
“I come here on Mondays because it’s the only time I’m not with my three kids.” Sweet smile from me. Uncomfortable silence from him. And I went back to Eve.
So if I’m behind in my NaNo goal, I’m sure it’s the fault of that guy and the two minutes of my day he stole.
And I am not PMS’d.


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