The Curse of the Cursor

Blink…blink…blink goes my cursor.  And then my head is filled with the stupid lyrics of The Trolley Song by Judy Garland from Meet Me in St. Louis.  “Clang clang clang went the trolley, ding ding ding went the bell”.  Then I’m off and running into Lala land with no chance of getting any work done.  And, to make matters worse, that stupid song will be stuck in my head for God only knows how long (the God of annoying songs – like the whistling theme from Andy Griffith.  That one’s like a curse.)

Before I went off on that tangent, I was staring at the blinking curser.  Or is it Curser as in: The woman was a curser who could swear blue like a sailor”.  Sometimes, when the muse is punishing me, or my brain won’t quiet enough to allow me to write, that stupid blinking line makes me want to curse. 

It’s like it’s taunting me.  “Oh, hello there intrepid writer.  Come, sit in front of me, the Tormentor, and feel the words slip from your mind all the while my stagnant blinking will beckon the letters that won’t come. Hahahahahaha. Bask in my glorious oppression.”  Then it twists its invisible Snidley Whiplash mustache.

 I hate the cursor.