NOW!
—Deborah LeBlanc—
I sort my writing distractions into two basic categories: controllable and uncontrollable. If I’m on a deadline, but the right words for a particular scene seem locked away in some obscure vault in my brain that I can’t open, the controllable distractions usually arrive. Things like…
–Dust bunnies in the corner of the room that have to be swept up NOW.
–The sweater that needs to be hand-washed NOW.
–Emails that have to be answered NOW
–The dog that has to be fed NOW (although I fed him two hours ago)
–The Google search for a premise I’m considering for a future book that has to be done NOW
–The paperwork on my desk that needs straightening NOW
–The search for a new ink pen (that fits better in my hand than the 30 others on my desk) that has to be done NOW.
Normally I don’t have a problem dealing with these distractions. I simply use them for the excuses they are, then wanna kick my ass that evening for having given into them. Uncontrollable distractions, however, are different. They usually just piss me off because they most often come when I’m cranking out words at a pretty decent pace, my brain solidly planted in a scene. And they usually come from people…
The phone rings—one of my daughter’s has a flat tire, and she’s frantic. If the tire isn’t fixed NOW, she’ll be late for her workout at the gym. And since she doesn’t know how to fix a flat, (and has suddenly lost the ability to search for a tire repair service in the phone book) needs me to find someone to fix it NOW.
A knock on my office door—one of my managers sticks his/her head in to let me know both bathrooms are out of toilet paper, and they’re heading to the store to get more. Of course they preempt the announcement of this catastrophic event with, “Are you busy?”
Within minutes of the toilet paper notification, the intercom on my phone bleeps—new secretary announces I have a call on line four…
”Who is it?”
“Uh . . .hold on.” Ten seconds later, the intercom bleeps again. “He said his name is Jim.”
This prompts an eye roll. “And Jim is with . . .?”
“He didn’t say.”
I clinch my teeth, prayed for patience. “Find out what company he’s with, please. If it’s a solicitor, I’m not available.” (She’s only been told this a gazillion times.)
“Okay.” Seconds pass, then another intercom bleep. “He says he’s returning your call.”
Frowning because I don’t remember calling any Jim, much less asking one for a return call, I enunciate…..“Would—you—please—find—out—what—company—he’s—with?”
“Oh, okay.” Another couple of seconds. Another bleep. “He says he’s with AIC.”
“What’s AIC?”
“Uh—he didn’t say.”
Exasperated, I finally surrender and answer the blinking line.
“This is Deborah.”
“Hello, Deborah. How are you today?”
I immediately go back to teeth-clinching mode. The pitch intro is all too familiar—it’s a damn solicitor. Honestly, somebody should open a cold-callers’ training camp to teach these guys a better opening line. “Fine. May I help you?”
“Actually, I may be able to help you. My name is Jim, and I’m with Aflac Insurance Company. By the way, is it hot down in Louisiana today?”
CLICK
Yes, I hung up on the guy. I don’t want to talk about the weather nor listen to him rattle off three pages of script without taking a breath. Besides, a new distraction has taken precedence—I have to go find the manager responsible for training the new secretary—NOW!
What kind of distraction irks you the most?
No related posts.
Share on TwitterIf you enjoyed this post, please consider to leave a comment or subscribe to the feed and get future articles delivered to your feed reader.
Comments
You’ve got that right, David! Unfortunately, I think most of them are paid on commission scales. Even so, you’d think they’d find a way to be more productive. Calling the same number and getting the same negative results again and again is ludicrous.
You’re right…There is always the tyranny of the present to interrupt our exploration of the imagination.
My personal annoyances range from the ringing phone, to laundry, to the lawn in need of mowing. It’s the little things that drag me down.
Good one, Deb. Yapping dogs, mewling cats, people fighting–and the world in conflict. Rudeness and
stupidity and sales calls. And the beat goes on. –J.
I know your pain. God forbid you buy something from someone these days, or ever call for a price quote. You hear from them daily like they are your long-lost best friend…life is full of people whose only job is to annoy, and I sometimes wonder if the salaries they are paid wouldn’t balance out, in the end, with the sales generated by NOT being the one bugging the crap out of people…
Dave