I've figured it out. There is no privacy in our rental home. Since our bedroom is a main thoroughfare- between the kids' room and the hallway to the rest of the house- I have to latch one door and put a rubber door stopper under the other to change clothes. There's nowhere to hide. Hide, you say? Maybe, less available is a better term. For me that means, there is nowhere to write. And oh, do I have a bunch to say... But at this point, my thoughts look like the cords behind our television cabinet and I think it will take hours to untangle them but my hopes are to possibly even discover a point. I need the point. I need to pick through it. I need to frame it before it's gone.
We are still in full holiday mode here as the kids don't go back until next week so we've baked a few batches of cookies, we've read books, popped too much popcorn, watched movies, played with friends, earned a lot of Wii time, done all the Christmas gift crafts, stayed up too late, slept too late, had so much fun....... but I have not written. And I look forward to doing that soon.