From relaxed calm to near explosion in 30 seconds.

I am annoyed. I can't seem to help myself. Last night was just sublime - having just those few minutes of quiet to do nothing at all. Today I decided to carve out a few minutes after hanging around the house with my husband so I could write. I haven't written in months and I've finally committed to making some time to do so because I feel like I've been neglecting a very important part of myself, kind of like I feel when I don't exercise.

And yet, and yet, I can't get away from anyone for long enough to write. Goddamn it. The more I think about it, the madder I get. At myself. Not two minutes after I had settled the cats, folded my laundry and booted my computer up, my husband came downstairs and asked if I minded if he joined me. The obvious answer was that yes, I do mind because he has a tendency to a) read over my shoulder - not cool at all for me (or most writers I know), b) talk constantly or c) listen to music really loudly, none of which do anything at all for my concentration.

Like a big freaking moron, I said, no, then asked that he not talk to me or listen to music really loud. This sparked one of those idiotic verbal dances. "Why don't I just go upstairs then and wait until you're ready for me?" he asked after a long, drawn-out pause (which I assumed was hurt, but probably was confusion). "No, no. It's okay. Really. Just, um. Try not to read over my shoulder, okay? That makes me really irritated. And would you try not to talk?" To which he responded by heading for the stairs. And like some fool, I demanded he come back. Why am I such a contrary dork? Why???

When I was a freelancer, I had the freedom of the silence I extolled in the last post. That was my environment. But now I don't get silence. I don't get solitude. And I need it and it makes me mad at myself when I'm too stupid to take the very precious few opportunities I'm presented with in order to get it. Grrr...