The bathtub wasn’t draining again–it’s an old house, old plumbing–and so the plumber is here, using something in there that sounds like a dental drill. My teeth are tingling. There he goes again. I want Novacain.
What’s going on where you are? If you haven’t written today, begin with where you are right this very minute.
I wish he’d stop.
Easter is in a few days. Lent will be over. I hope the Easter Bunny brings a lot of chocolate–tiny Whopper eggs, especially. Then I’ll be hearing the real dentist’s drill.
If you haven’t already, start writing. Set the timer for 15 minutes. And go to it. Distractions and all.
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The plumber’s here: A prompt