A writer’s worst enemy

The plan was to spend the afternoon in the library, toiling away at the manuscript. But as I was packing the laptop, this was happening, which means that progress on my book ceased around 1:30.

I’ll regret the lost time in a few days when I am pecking away into the wee hours of the morning, attempting to polish a modicum of perfection from an ugly slab of granite, but at the moment, I don’t regret a damn thing.