Living in Paradise

My Writing Interruptions

My Writing Interruptions

I’m breaking my rule about not blogging to let you know why my new book may take longer than I thought. Every time I sit down to write, somehow something interferes with my progress. Today, I stopped work to send a nasty note to the reporter who published Tucker Carlson’s address for all to see. More about that later.

Then, I was interrupted when the home watch people next door exploded into the shared condo hallway and began verbally assaulting each other. When they got into the elevator fists must have flown. I heard yells and thuds. That brought me out of my office, phone in hand, to call the police if necessary. A minute or so later, I watched her walking briskly to her car and saw him chasing her, yelling her name and bleeding from the elbow.

They were still alive, so I returned to my book.

A few minutes later my Polish cleaning lady showed up. She likes to chat with me before getting down to the nitty gritty. Today she was full of stories about the people she cleaned for until last week. Seems she arrived for her routine visit when she discovered a list that the homeowner had left for her. It contained a few things he wanted her to do in addition to her regular cleaning jobs. Ten things in fact. And no extra money. They included wiping down all the kitchen cabinets, doors, woodwork and baseboards, blinds, etc. etc.

My cleaning lady, who’s been kicked off of Facebook before (and thus is not to be trifled with), sent him a text explaining that she would be happy to do some of the items this time and some on her next visit. But she did not have time to do all of them in one day. The man seemed surprised and began negotiating.

After several futile attempts to explain to him that what he wanted still wasn’t easy to do in one day, my cleaning lady let him have it and told him she was quitting.

“Big mistake on his part. Wait until his wife finds out,” I told the cleaning lady. We both had a good laugh. Next to your mate, your cleaning lady is the most important person in your life. Don’t forget that.

Paying extra was what my fourth interruption was about. My man, who suffers from a chronic skin condition that requires pricy medicine, received a call from Medicare to say that he had hit the “donut hole” in his coverage. It meant he would have to pay $4,000 out of his own pocket before his Medicare pharmaceutical coverage kicked in again.

The news was not great, but even worse was the phone call that went on for at least an hour. I felt like he was paying a double price: dealing with a bureaucrat who kept putting him on hold AND having to fork over more each month. And, of course, I had to listen in on the conversation and offer my two cents, which kept me away from my computer.

Back to Tucker, who’s been in the news lately for being fired from Fox, and who happens to live in southwest Florida a good portion of the year, not too far from me. Not only did the reporter for the Naples Daily News decide to out Tucker’s location, but he also attempted to fill in some saliant points about the area where the celebrity lives and got them mostly wrong. Why not leave the guy alone?

I dashed off an email: “Really Dave. You had to let everyone know where Tucker Carlson lives? The poor guy’s home up north was attacked by Antifa protestors several years ago – his wife and children threatened. Obviously, someone who really wants to find a celebrity can do so, which is why we have had security guards and Secret Service on our little island in the past. But you made it easy for all the idiots out there who like to cause trouble. Sometimes, the two-second name recognition you receive for writing about a famous person isn’t worth it.”

That was my day so far. Now I have two hours left to write before eleven friends show up for dinner. Maybe I should sweep off the front porch.