And I think it involves pent up energy.

I just finished a week where I wrote double the words I am used to writing, and I think its no coincidence that it followed a week where Naoto was gone (don’t have to make “dinner”, just mac and cheese for the kids, and don’t have anyone distracting me at night) and where I didn’t work very much at my part time job.

All that extra energy made me restless, which in turn makes me feel like I ought to be working on something, or being obviously productive in some way, which makes me write. (or clean lots of sheets. But writing is more fun.)

I remember the biggest spurt of writing productivity I ever had was when we spent ten days in Tokyo in Naoto’s parent’s cramped house and he went to work everyday and I was stuck there with NOTHING to do.

No responsibilities for housework, and the girls were busy playing with Baba and Jiji, and I read all the English books I’d brought with me within the first two days.

So no responisibilities, couldn’t go anywhere, and no easy access to English reading material.

I wrote half a novel.

Sigh. I guess that means that the reason I haven’t been writing for this past week is that I’m working, Naoto’s back, and life is back to normal.

Oh well.