Yes, I'm a little grumpy this morning.
Yesterday, my Internet was down until 9PM. The good side of this is that I had no more excuses to avoid writing. The bad news is - and I hear this complaint from other writers all the time, so I know it's not just me - no one takes writing seriously. They seem to think you can just pick it up and set it down like building a model ship. So they have no problem interrupting me.
When I get into a good writer's groove, and everything is clicking along, and the scene is playing out just perfectly, the last thing I want is an interruption. All I got yesterday was interruptions. Arrrgh!
I inherited my father's dark temper. Normally, I keep it under tight control. Sometimes though, it bubbles up like black crude from the ground and spills out and it takes everything I have to stop from leaving scorched earth around me. So I gritted my teeth and made non-committal replies, hoping people would take the hint and just leave me alone. But they kept on talking. And chatering. I can't do much about Skitters, my cat, who has decided that me at the computer = prime cat petting time, but for every human that thinks a small interruption or two, or even mindless chit-chat about what to have for dinner, doesn't bother me, I have this to say:
Are you on fire? Are you dying? If not, it can be arranged. *menacing glare*