As I go about my chores, I keep glancing at the closed doors of my wooden secretary. If I come within reach of it, my stomach clenches in anticipation. I could open those doors. Inside is my laptop. I could lift the cover, switch it on. Inside is my blog, my pictures, my email, the Internet, my writing...Facebook! My fingers itch to tap-tap on the keys.
But there are my children, and dinner, and cleaning, and shopping... No way I can lift that cover even for one little peek; no time to lose myself. Because I surely will. I can sit down to check my email and lose a couple of hours in one blink. I can start writing and lose three hours easily. Don't even get me started on Facebook!
On busy days, the closed secretary is a disease I treat with sub-conscious fear. I give it a wide berth: if I ignore it, maybe I can resist. On school days, I open the doors and try to find myself again before 3:30.
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