It is 8:30 at night and I’ve been sitting at my computer for twelve hours.
This is not unusual.
I work at home and play at home. Play being writing. I stare at this monitor and hover my fingers above the keyboard and I sit and I sit.
What I don’t do is try to figure out where I’m going to sleep tonight because my house got washed away by an army of salt water that came crashing into my neighborhood.
I’m doing alright.