Don't Bother Me When I'm Killing People

I got up this morning with the urge to kill.

One of my characters.

And a couple of the neighbor kids, but I didn't actually kill them. I did actually kill one of my characters, and it was sad.

Husband didn't work today. We had plans to go see Prometheus at 1:50. Around 12:30, I was still parked in front of the computer with no pants on, typing feverishly and listening to sad music.

Husband said, "Hey, are you going to be ready to go in like an hour?"

I said, "Mmrrhhmm."

Half an hour later, he said, "Hey, thirty minutes."

I said, "Uh-huh."

Twenty minutes later, he said, "Have you brushed your teeth yet?"

And I said, "Honey I'm in the middle of killing someone this is a very emotional time for me I just have to finish, and he has to die, and then we can go, OKAY?!"


He said, "Oooooookaaaaay."

I finished killing my character. Poor guy. He never saw it coming. But that's okay. Protagonist learned something, and the plot marches on. Like it always does.