It is mid-morning when you sit down at the computer to write. You've seen your husband off to work, gotten your breakfast and fed the kids their breakfast, loaded up the dishwasher, washed the rest of the dishes that didn't go in the dishwasher (who buys wooden spoons anyway?) and now, for a few minutes, it seems quiet enough that you can turn on the computer and write.
Pushing that power button always seems to do more things than just turn on the computer, however. Your two-year-old gets into a fight with your four-year-old over the stuffed puppies that one of them (if they can't remember, how are you supposed to?) got for Christmas from Grandma (or maybe it was Uncle Joe). Then the dog starts yowling at the squirrel in the yard. The phone rings. The kettle shrieks (because a mocha is always helpful to the muse). And you remember that the clothes sitting in the laundry bin upstairs MUST go in the washing machine this morning, before they walk down here on their own.
By the time you hang up on the telemarketer, yell at the dog, give the kids a talk about stuffies and sharing, and start the laundry, you have to the boil the kettle again for the mocha and the computer has gone to sleep. You wake up the computer. Check your email. Drop by Facebook, just to see what anybody else is doing. The washing machine dings, so you throw the clothes in the dryer. You get the kids a snack. You find that your mocha is cold, so you throw it in the microwave.
Then you sit down, again, and open Word. Maybe you should've opened Excel first, because you can't remember what you were supposed to work on. That editor from the writing magazine wanted an article on freelancing as a mother. And the instructor in your online course had handed out a new writing assignment, due tonight, of course. What was it? Oh yeah, write something in second-person point of view.