I usually address the needs of the distracted worker in a cubicle.  I digress at times, but largely, I write for the rights of the interrupted  soul just trying to get his or her work done.

Today, however, I am writing to you, O Distractor.  Whether you are making inappropriate jokes, clicking your finger nails, tapping your heels, emitting bodily odors and sounds, overly rejoicing over a sale (it had to happen some time, right?), arguing too loudly with your other half via an office-traveling phone call, eating odiferous ethnic foods or just plain old tuna, this is for you.

And I’m not sorry.  You deserve it.  Maybe now you’ll work instead of irritating the rest of us.  Until that day, I will block you.