Sometimes I just can’t seem to win.

While I was just trying to write what I was thinking in Word, I got distracted by Word itself because I wanted to paste unformatted text into the document.

You know like when you don’t know how to spell “Uyghurs” and you grab it from an article on the web and paste it into your Word document. Only to have the rest of the word document suddenly reformat itself to match the bold underline 24 point font style of the single word you pasted.

Yeah, good job Microsoft! That makes a whole lot of sense! 

Then of course Jesse starts pitching a fit outside and now I have distractions and annoyances 3 levels deep and I’ve forgotten what the fuck I was thinking or typing which compounds the annoyance. Now we’re at 4 levels deep and this is just a Saturday morning.

But I begin to see how it is that I can’t write worth shit during the week. 

Just a normal weekday:

Flood Control grinding, digging, banging, and rumbling up and down the wash.

Jesse (Who needs attention and deserves it)

The crazy bitch screaming whatever she’s screaming.

My internal frustration at not being able to put on paper what I really mean

Fighting with software that thinks it’s being helpful but is not

Being naturally easily distracted


So I wait until evening.

Jesse (Who needs attention and deserves it)

The crazy bitch screaming whatever she’s screaming.
My internal frustration at not being able to put on paper what I really mean

Fighting with software that thinks it’s being helpful but is not

Being naturally easily distracted

My mother calling and telling me that they’re going to be home in a day or two. When I know a) she’s sitting in her recliner at her home. b) she somehow thinks that I’m in Florida when I’ve lived in California for the past 44 years, and therefore wouldn’t know or care if they were in fact out of town. c) She asks if everything is okay and I don’t want to repeat myself about my troubles. So I lie to her because I just don’t fucking want to get into it. She wouldn’t in the past, and now couldn’t help anyway.

The Crazy Bitches boyfriend, cutting and grinding metal or banging on god knows what or “Working” on an engine in the long string of vehicles he destroys by working on their engines.

I suppose that trying to write during the day is the better option.

However so much for me being able to just write something quick in Word to dash off to the County.

Grrrr