Enforced Work Ethic
Will came into the room, quiet and stern, and took me by the hand. "Now what I'm about to say is probably going to annoy and anger you. You're going to be very irritated with me. But I strongly feel it needs to happen."
I laughed and blustered, accused him of being cryptic. He sat me down on the couch, scooted my laptop on its tray table over to me, and pointed to it. "Work on your paper. I will take care of whatever else needs to be done, but you focus on your paper."
"But I just brought the laundry in, we need to fold it and-"
"I will do that. Now, do you need me to bring you anything? What do you need, to focus?"
I was warming up to this little theme. "I need a beverage. Berry limeade. No... an energy drink. The tangerine strawberry one. And pretzels. Ooh, and that french onion dip. And maybe pizza or something, if you're hungry for dinner."
As I spoke, he was moving around the kitchen, taking things out of cabinets, pouring drinks, and bringing them to the coffee table in front of me.
"Oh, and can you track down your cell phone for me? I think it's still in my car-"
"But I also need to hang up those shirts before they wrinkle-"
"That has nothing to do with your paper. Work."
He then headed for the office/guest room, saying he would "get out of my hair" but that I should yell for him, and not get up, if I needed something. He closed the door, and I was suddenly alone in an empty, quiet room.
Maybe I should start writing, then, instead of blogging. Hm.
Procrastination finally grows some teeth - 2010-11-29
Necessity: the Mother of Invention - 2010-11-29
Enforced Work Ethic - 2010-11-28
A Week of Perfect Nothings - 2010-11-28
4 more days - 2010-11-27
Alms for the Poor?