My daily horoscope: “Your open and communicative manner is much-admired whatever sphere you’re engaged in. You get on equally well with the people you encounter whether at work or socializing” – yeah, spot on (with a large daub of sarcasm).
Today I’m so open and communicative, I’m cursing people and the world in general in flagrant disregard for anybody’s feelings. I’m buoyed up by frustration of other’s ineptitude and impotence.
My smile has literally come unstuck. Yes, I did get out of bed on the wrong side – and why isn’t the wrong side the right side, by the way?
Today I am venting. Today I have the warrior planet Mars on my side, riding his magnificent steed, in full armour, wielding sword and stave, the ferocity of his bearing burning as bright as the fires of hell.
I’m tired of customers coming into the bookshop with their petty troubles – “oh I hit this lady’s car from behind and it’s cost me $350.00 to get her bumper fixed…” all the time eating a greasy samosa and asking me to put books aside for him and he will come and pay for them in a few days time when his pension comes through.
“I’m sick and tired of customers coming in grizzling, like you,” I said. “I’ll keep the books ‘til Sunday. No longer. I’ve got a living to make.”
He tucked his head into his shoulders and burrowed out the door. I expect him back in half an hour with the money for the books.
Yep, I’m tired of being Mrs Nice Guy. And I’ve got a helluva toothache. And I’m going to have a go at the so-called IT man who destroyed my laptop instead of fixing it. That’s a sore that’s been festering for weeks and weeks. I’ve been putting off going down to collect the machine – it was such a loyal extension of my arm, with its own intelligence and it played a significant part in my life.
Aha! Now we come to the crux of the matter. It’s the laptop that really is bugging me, or rather the lack of one. The moon, bless her/him, kept me awake for hours last night. I wanted to write something, anything. I love writing on my laptop while lying in bed with the moonlight throwing a blanket of mercurial silver over me.
Now I remember – I even tried to write a story on my smartphone last night. I just wanted to see, feel, hear the words skipping across the page. It didn’t work of course, I can’t connect with my smartphone the way I could with my laptop.
Suddenly, I know what the problem is, I’ve got writer’s withdrawal symptom.
Tales Creative Writing 