My husband is working from home today. Now I know some women who enjoy that kind of thing. I’m not necessarily one of them.
As much as I love my husband and enjoy being with him, I do not like it when we are both trying to work from the house. Why is that? Maybe it’s simply the jolt to my usual routine—and boy do I thrive on routine! Maybe it’s that a writer’s work often looks like no work at all. I spend time thinking, often while I’m puttering around the house doing things that don’t really matter. Maybe it’s the possibility of being interrupted once the words start to flow—or when I’m struggling to put one word after another on the screen.
Whatever it is, we have certainly not mastered the art of working together separately. Or rather, I haven’t. He seems to do just fine.