My wife has undertaken the painting of the living and dining rooms, which means there is lots of stuff moved away from the walls and onto the furniture. This means the dining table, where I typically set my laptop up, is inaccessible. This means that I am attempting to write downstairs while my wife is also downstairs, watching Glee. Loudly.
I have not written a single word aside from what’s in this blog post.
I am, however, fully caught up on a bunch of other things that don’t require either concentration or sanity, so the night isn’t a total wash. I think I’ve had just about as much singing as I can take, though, so I’m going to head to bed and see if it’s quiet enough there to get some novel reading done.