Writing must be a disease. I met three deadlines this week and have a weekend free of the hustle and stress of trying to finish a manuscript (or three or four). I could be gardening, painting, or (God forbid) cleaning and I find myself drawn to the computer like a moth to the flame. I can’t turn it off – this obcession to write. Sometimes I feel as though there are little gears turning in my head all the time. Each one is a different project; a novel, a picture book, or an article. Those gears never stop spinning and gathering information. I considered taking a cup of coffee to the porch but the computer lured me in as I walked past. Let’s be frank. I haven’t even made the coffee yet. I just thought about it. I woke up hours ago, trailed down the stairs and was sucked in by the computer before I had breakfast. What do other people do? It’s the weekend, for heaven’s sake, I should be able to stop composing and live a little. Maybe making coffee would be a start in the right direction – it is almost noon.