Thursday night after getting home from a long day of work I spent a few hours writing before my husband finally convinced me to turn out the light and go to sleep. I didn't want to stop even though I was exhausted. The ideas were pouring out and I just wanted to spend hours writing as much as possible. I thought to myself that it would really be nice if I could write 8 hours a day instead of working. I could get so much done and I'd enjoy seeing where my imagination would take me each and every day.

Well, Friday morning I was awarded with a snow/ice day. We got at least 3 inches of snow topped with a layer of ice. The office was closed since no one could make it in. I had an entire day to write. Sure, my kids were rowdy and between fixing meals, changing diapers, and chasing down the dog to get back whatever toy he'd run off with, I had more time to just sit and type. By the end of the day I felt like my brain was fried but also had a great feeling of accomplishment. Too bad I can't trade in my regular 8-5.