I was sitting here working on a completely different blog post. The living room was quiet for exactly twelve and a half minutes.

However, now, Preston is bouncing a basketball through EVERY SINGLE room and Jack is playing a YouTube video of a song he wants me to sing at VOLUME FOUR BILLION.

So I’ve moved myself to a whole different room to write.

I almost never wish I lived alone.
But, if you asked me in this moment, I’d tell you that I wish I lived alone.

As much as I love my family, and I really love my family, there is nowhere to hide when I need to work. The mornings are usually pretty quiet, but the afternoons are anything but. It’s hard because sometimes I’m not in the right head space to write in the mornings. Most of the time, ideas/thoughts come to me much later in the day.

I know what you’re thinking. Why can’t you write in your room? Well, that would be great, but as it stands, there is a CURTAIN separating my room from the rest of the house. A curtain.

I still know what you’re thinking. Why is there a curtain separating your room instead of a door? That is an excellent question. Maybe YOU know the answer because I sure as **** don’t! Probably because we are the laziest people on Planet Earth when it comes to anything domesticated. We’ve complained of needing doors (because mine isn’t the only curtain) for at least five years. It’s not like there’s not a Lowe’s AND a Home Depot less than five miles from our house.

No one should be surprised. Remember when the phone company dropped off phone books on your porch? Yeah, well, we are the family who left it laying on the porch so long that it LITERALLY fused with the concrete. Think about that. One hundred and twenty pages became one with our doorstep. Please close your eyes and picture every member of my family STEPPING OVER the big, chunky book to get to the door. Then, picture us entering the house as if we did not just step over a big, chunky book to get through the door.

You cannot make this stuff (not the word I wanna use) up. Who does this? The answer is US. We do this.

Maybe I’m writing the wrong kind of book.