I hate being interrupted. And by hate, I mean HATE. Few things set my teeth more on edge than having what I’m doing preempted by a phone call or an uninvited guest. It’s not just when I’m writing, but true in all aspects of my life. When I am engaging in any activity, I’m all in and don’t want to think about anything else until I’m done.
Having shared my home with 14 Shetland Sheepdogs over my life, my wife swears I am part Sheltie. The breed is task-oriented to maniacal extremes. Perhaps she’s right. More probable is the fact that I’m just selfish. It would serve me much better to remember that all time is God’s time.