She knew that all the thinking about writing wasn’t actually writing.  She wanted to devote uninterrupted hours to her writing, but the week behind her, as well as the week ahead, simply would not allow it.  She had parenting, relationshiping, and work to contend with (not necessarily in that order).  But soon, things would slow down.  She would have the luxury of early morning writing on the porch before the sun began to heat the humid air, making it hard to breathe while getting burned to a crisp. Her family would decide that they could manage on their own because the most important thing was that she get her writing done.  She would be on autopilot with her work- handling all matters quickly and efficiently.  And with a flick of her magic wand, she would fix the economy and bring peace to the world. So that she could get back to writing, of course.