World of Warcraft ate my brain.

Surgery day for yours truly here at St. Mammon Community Hospital. This means I hustled my butt out of bed at 7, skipped my coffee, and got into the hospital by 7:20. When will I learn that it's okay to get in a few minutes later and not skip the coffee? For a few months now I've had trouble working on the novel at night. I've been productive on the weekends, but my evening writing has slowed to a crawl. (Oddly enough, though, I wrote "Troll Lover" mostly at night.) This annoying problem coincided with our purchase of Blizzard's World of Warcraft. I doubt this is coincidental. WoW is an MMORPG, in case you were wondering; however, if you know what an MMORPG is, you surely don't need to be told that World of Warcraft is one of 'em. (Okay, okay. My parents are reading this. MMORPG = massive multiplayer online role-playing game. Doesn't that help loads?) My preferred character is She Witch, a rogue troll, but occasionally I slum with the Alliance in my other guise: Scyther, a Night Elf huntress. When you play in the Night Elves' realm, WoW plays this dippy music that is PLAINLY a rip-off of the incidental music used in Lord of the Rings whenever those dippy elves are on screen. I've tried to make Scyther as butch as possible, but that's a tough gig when you're an elf. Need I mention that we bought this game for my son? Tonight the muse is as dry as a baby-powdered ass. I'm outa here. Gotta go collect mushrooms or chop off a paladin's head . . . some damned thing. D.