Yesterday, I got an e-mail from John Scalzi, reminding me that my Unicorn Pegasus Kitten fanfic is due on Saturday … I'm going to skip the part about how I began to hyperventilate at the thought of actually turning something in to John that people are going to read and OH MY GOD THEY'RE ALL GOING TO LAUGH AT ME AND —

Um. Let's just say that I've been working on it nonstop, so I don't blow the deadline, and I have what Anne calls "Writer brain."

(Witness: "You have writer brain." "Why do you say that?" "Because you just put the cereal in the refrigerator and the almond milk in the pantry." "Oh.")

Anyway, earlier this morning, I was typing as fast as my fingers could keep up with my brain, when my computer did this thing where the screen fritzes once, twice, then looks like something out of Videodrome, then locks up. (This has happened infrequently for a few months, and because I missed my Applecare renewal by one day, I don't have it so … I'm stuck with this until I can afford a replacement. #firstworldproblem.)

Luckily, I'd just saved, so I didn't lose any work. I stood up, sighed, and reset the machine. While it rebooted, I walked across my office and looked out the window just as a hummingbird flew around the side of my house and began taking nectar from of the flowers in the lavender bush beneath my office window.

The window was open, so I could hear the beat of its wings and its tiny voice when it chirped. It darted around the bush, and the sun turned the green feathers on its back almost iridescent. I think I caught a flash of bright red on its breast while BNL's Brian Wilson played on my Sonos.

It was an incredibly peaceful moment, and it calmed my frenzied mind. Though I hadn't planned to take a break from my work, I was glad I did. If I'd been working, I wouldn't have seen or heard it, and I was grateful to be in exactly the right place and time to have that moment.