Especially when it fails me.
You know, it’s not entirely my fault that I fall asleep while trying to type on my laptop. I can’t help it that the night air is so soothingly cool and wispy. Or that the crickets and cicadas have developed this wonderful, harmonious melody that they won’t stop chirping. Or that there is no traffic nearby to startle me. Or that there are no streetlights nearby to buzz incessantly.
OR – more importantly – that there are dog sized raccoons historically proven to eat cars who just might decide that my ample, sleeping form looks pretty darn tasty. A fact which – after I realize it and where I’m at (and after briefly waking from my atmospherically perfect slumber) I quickly slam shut my laptop and head inside, forgetting to save my current night’s worth of typing. Furthermore, since my computer is merely ‘sleeping’ and not ‘off’, I don’t plug it back in because I’m going to bed, and so it stays on in some capacity until the battery dies, leaving my unsaved, UNautosaved work to fade into the night as I do into my dreams.
In the words of my twelve year, Brennan: Curses!
So tonight, for the umpteenth time, I think I’ve decided I’m done working on my novel. That, or it’s ending in a tragic donut fire asap.
Bah humbag. (here’s to tomorrow)