It's a writer's block, get it?

Gah. I can't write.

Ok, it's not so much I can't write, as...I can't write.

Dammit.

Vacation. The word seems to hang in the air before me, a semi-transparent reminder that this is a four day work week, followed by a five-day no-work-for-five-days weekend, followed by a three-day work week. This floating hallucination is a terribly effective distraction from any and all work that is on my desk today. Also, the online scrabble game isn't helping any.

Which, maybe, is why I can't write. You see, at first, it was a game, a way to kill a little time before rates came in, and it was fine. Then, Skippy, a cubicle buddy of mine challenged me to a game. It was all over then. I fell right from "I'm only here because I'm a recent college grad and this is a steady paycheck, and oh, also it's airconditioned, so why not show up everyday, and as long as I'm here I'll do work, because it's easy and I'm good at it" to "Hey, listen pal, I graduated from college after having cruised, cruised, through four years in a very difficult major, and I know, I know, I'm smarter than you, just because, well, I'm smarter than just about everybody, you know? so of course I'm better at scrabble than you are, because let's be honest, you couldn't possilbly compete with me in a tic-tac-toe tournament, much less a sophisticated word-building game based on language and the participants' command thereof. bring it"

[abrreviated: from "Work? meh." to "assumed superiority," and in about three seconds flat]

So now scrabble's taking up a lot of my time. I stare at my inbox waiting for Skippy's next play. "Sin" ha. How does "Lozenge" sound? That's right, triple letter score on the 'z' and double word score. I'm also taking points for "Sing" because that's where I put my 'g' thanks.

BAM.