I'm ready to write.
I've toted along my Kate Spade pink lined paper pad ( a MUST for any "serious" writer) and my pink polka dot Cross pen to work today. I plan on ignoring any accumulating duties here at my job and concentrate on the things that are important like checking out www.hollywoodrag.com and writing the next installment in my soon-to-be-a-big-hit-because-I'm-that-darn-tootin'-funny book.
Trouble is - things at work are escalating into epidemic proportions. Lawyermen are freaking out and preparing to go into high-pitched squeaky voice mode. What's the problem? The computer system that records the over-pricing of their hourly rate - is malfunctioning.
And as I watch another overly educated individual streak by in a blur of panic, searching for the ever-vacant office manager, I smile inwardly.
I think it's funny.
And then karma bites me in my hiney. My AOL Journal won't open. My links don't work and I'm reduced to joining them in the mad office dash of computer-age confusion.
Now, if you'll excuse me...