Right now I sit on the couch with my laptop on my lap. I’m downstairs, beside the playpen full of toys, in our living room. The playpen is empty, the baby that usually occupies it asleep upstairs for his morning nap.

I see the dusty hardwood floor that needs to be swept. I see the dishes in the sink that need to be loaded in to the dishwasher. I see the basket of clean clothes that need to be folded and carefully returned to the dresser.

I have no comfortable chair in a private office with “Do Not Disturb” the door. I have no quiet peaceful retreat on the porch in the early morning hours. I have nowhere beside the couch downstairs or the office chair at my lopsided desk upstairs in the loft.

Instead of doing my chores, I sit here on the couch, my feet on the coffee table, and face the empty page. The cursor blinks.

Response to Write on Wednesday question.