I pluck various hair in various spots on my face. They are black. They have no right to grow there. They must go. “I refuse to think of them as chin hairs. I think of them as stray eyebrows." (Janette Barber)
I paint my nails.
I press Alt-Tab.
Because I pressed Alt-Tab, in a sloppy angry way, I have to repaint my nails.
I drum my fingers on the keys.
I floss my teeth.
I get up and clean the cat box, thinking that by the time I get back the computer will be over its temper tantrum. Usually it is still holding its breath.
Because I cleaned the cat box with wet nails, I repaint.
I watch a rerun of "House."
After House has saved the person from leprosy or some other interesting disease I come back, and if the computer is functioning I have forgotten the story--email--blog and then I sigh and complain.
And then I go to bed. It is 1:00 AM. Or maybe 2:00.