. . . there were three little girls who went to the Police Academy. Wait, sorry, wrong ending - flashback to the 70s. Hate it when that happens. Let me try again.
Once upon a time, the writing became an obsession. The man wrote and wrote, could think of nothing else, and began - for the most part - to isolate himself from the world. Luckily, his beloved partner was a caring and compassionate individual who endured the obsessive stage of writing.
Flash forward a few years later. For whatever reason, the obsessive stage of writing has begun again. Last night, all I wanted to do was write. Unfortunately, life - dinner, walk the dogs, pay attention to my partner of almost fifteen years before he goes into work, feed the cats, and such and such and such and such - sometimes interferes. Arrrrgghhhh! So, my partner decides to dawdle last night, to talk about this and that, that and this, this and that . . . and all I want to do is write. I nodded and smiled, made a comment or two . . . but all I wanted to do was write. Finally, my partner leaves for work. Hallelujah!
No, I'm really not that bad of a person. It is so rare when the obsession stage of writing hits me, that my frustration level just seems to rise and rise and rise. I love my partner. He's put up with me for almost fifteen years. He deserves multiple awards for that feat. I'm definitely not the easiest person to live with in the Universe. Still, he loves me and I guess that's all that really matters in the world.
Now, back to my writing. I don't question why the words flow, or when they flow. I just - sorry - go with the flow. I try to be a nice person during the obsession stage. I try not to let my frustration show. Pushing a man out the door can lead to suspicious thoughts forming in said man's mind. I've written about such things. It's never pretty! So, I nod, I smile and I make a comment or two. I'm not pushing my partner out the door to have an illicit affair . . . unless my writing counts . . . if that's the case, I'm having one heck of an illicit affair right now . . . and it's good, very, very good. I'm just saying . . .