Got really busy in my new venture, and real estate is now premium in this household. My workspace is no bigger than the average bathroom (I mean toilet, bath, basin and narrow trough between)...and come 2:45pm it becomes "rush hour". Kids come home and have to get on their FB account. It's a life-or-death thing...I don't get it. I'm just an adult - and don't understand life's complexities, yahh!
With 3 computers crammed in the previously described space, it becomes an exercise in Twister trying to figure out a workaround. With some deft manouvering and bone-cracking acobatics, my foot is messaging something on some FB account (which, by the look of horror on the kids face as it cranes over my distorted frame to take a quick look, is going to cost me) while another kids elbow is playing havoc with my groin and its butt has crunched my keyboard and irrevocably altered a design I spent the good part of the morning agonizing over...actually, it seems to be an improvement.
As I puzzle over how a random butt imprint could improve my design and the implications of that, and after some brief and often high-shrilled negotiation, order is temporarily restored, and the business of trying to earn a living, and saving the world with "hi...whatsup? ...nthing...u?" has eventually downgraded the threat levels to Code Orange, I can resume the dream. Life is good.
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