Paging procrastination! Clean up on aisle 10!

I've been staring at my computer monitor for an hour now, but I can't say I've gotten anything productive done. The Husband went to bed at 5:30 p.m. (pesky midnight schedule has him on a totally different planet than the rest of us in the house) and Buttercup passed out on our hour-long walk this evening. Little girl was tired, toIMG00382-20100223-1951o. I got her out of the stroller, out of her jacket, and upstairs to bed without her waking up.

Long story short? I was free to do whatever I wanted by 8:30 p.m.

Short story long? It's 10:11 and I finally stopped drooling over purses on Piperlime, ended my gchat with Juliette because she has to go to bed, and decided I better get blogging so I can force myself to write chapter 16 tonight. The goal is strictly quantity. Quality can kiss my ass until I've gotten beyond the blinking cursor on a blank page.

Anyhoo, it occurred to me that my problem is that I am nowhere near used to the concept of Time to Myself. Normally my writing time is sandwiched in between getting Buttercup in bed (which is a production and takes for-effing-ever) and The Husband out of bed at 9 p.m. so he can be out the door for work at 11 p.m. And after cleaning up the kitchen from making his dinner and meal for his lunch cooler, I can finally sit my ass down about midnight to work on that Getting Famous thing.

But Buttercup was a breeze tonight. And The Husband is off tonight, so he's sleeping in till midnight. And because he thinks I need more sleep, he's going to kick me off the computer at about 12:30 so I can maybe get eight hours in for once.

He actually told me last night that I need to figure out how to handle things a bit better so I can get my writing done earlier so I  can sleep more. I understand that he meant this in a way that expressed his concern for me burning myself out by staying up until 3 a.m. and then waking up with Buttercup at 8:30, but I just looked at him and blinked.

Because really, there was absolutely no response to that. Except for maybe, "Oh? We hired a maid, housekeeper, and a nanny? Or are you sniffing glue again?"