I’ve realized that the only way to reach my weekly writing quota is to bring a laptop to work and sneak off for an extra long lunch, then stay late. When I get home, I have the satisfaction of knowing that my work is virtually done for the day … except then I have to relieve my wife, who will likely be at the point of a nervous breakdown, from the children and thus be mister mom until I collapse on my bed from exhaustion. And that’s my life.