I am trying to get some work done at home ... hmmmmm....
J is running around half-nude post-shower, jumping out from behind things and yelling out "WOMBAAAT!" at the bubba. The bubba is banging around amidst the toys, mostly ignoring J but letting out the occasional cry of annoyance. The luthier sits on the couch watching some "current affairs" show with its constant range of generic stories - the unemployed youth, the people with the house chock full of rubbish, or the shameless promotion of some product - tonight its a pillow promotion under the guise of a snoring/sleeping story. Add to the cacophany the whirrings and sloshings of the dishwasher, washing machine and heat pump.
No wonder I can't get much work done.
I've just read Virginia Woolf's A Room of one's own for book group. In it, she talks about women not being able to write as they never had the freedom of a room of their own.
I know exactly what she means.