I'll Stay Home, Thanks

When it comes to writing, I can be very much like an old hobbit on party day.

In fact, I would rather write in my car than in a coffee shop.

I can work better cramped in the car, in the cold, and in the dark than I can if venture inside a warm and toasty establishment of any kind. Because PEOPLE are in there.

I've tried. But there is no avoiding those people. They talk... about their lives, their daily trials, their dirty laundry - or other people's. They bring their children, who sit far enough away from mom and dad to think they have some kind of freedom, but they either sit there doing the same noisy things or they poke each other and giggle.

Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope.

Even with earbuds, the music wanes every few minutes and I cannot avoid hearing them. Or they move about drawing my notice. Or they encroach on my bubble.

Or someone among the crowd seems...off...and I suddenly don't feel safe letting my guard down enough to focus on the work. 

To that end, many hours have passed with me in the driver's seat, laptop wedged between me and the steering wheel as I await my son to come out of either his parkour class, his acting class, the dentist, the barber, or any of the other places I have to take him. But given my druthers, I'll work in my office, thanks. Where the coffee is just how I like it. The music is just as I like it. The heater or fan is on just as I like it. And the creativity is unencumbered.