After last night’s proclamation that I would have a writing deluge, the power went out for over 12 hours. Now, the thought of pretending to be Jane Austen writing by candlelight did occur to me, somewhat. I guess I’ve gotten spoiled by typing away on my laptop, which I could have done, and maybe, in retrospect, should have done. But you never know how long the power’s going to be out, especially when nothing was actually happening at the time to make it go out; also I knew I’d need it for real work today.
“But, Sascha, obviously something did happen.”
Hmm. My feeling is that it was fate being a crank.
Fate: Muwhaha. Every time Sascha Darlington makes a silly declaration of some incredible feat she’s going to perform, I will interfere.
Me: It wasn’t intended to be incredible. I just need to ketchup.
Fate: Ketchup? Tomato sauce. Nonsensical.
Me: Your point?
Fate: You showed hubris. We can’t have that.
Me: (mumble, mumble). It wasn’t hubris. I just need to catch-up. There are you happy?
Me: Fate? Fate? Hmm. Maybe someone else has caught his eye for a while and I can….er…play solitaire, that’s it. On my laptop. It’s not like I’m going to write (wink, wink) or anything.
But first, real work calls. Almost literally.