Well, that was what we called it back in paleolithic times. No, I haven't got the virus (so far). That should translate to more writing time, shouldn't it? No chance. Firstly, my muse is as erratic as usual these days. Then there's shopping (almost daily - my wife has some dietary intolerances and pre-prepared foods are mostly unacceptable), but mostly there's the Honey-do list. Things I've put off for months or years, I no longer have any real excuse.
Quite apart from that, I used to write quite a bit sitting in EPIC - the Endcliffe Park Independent Cafe. That's now closed for the duration, along with every other cafe and restaurant. Not only do I have to wait to get home for my morning cup of the elixir of life, I don't get to chat with the lovely staff, and sit and write.
The libraries are closed, too. Okay, for reading matter I'm well set with full shelves and SoL, but my session at our local library was as much social as work, 4.5 hours on a Friday morning.
Gatherings are off, too. No riding of Oscar, either.
But fear not, an episode of Dulcie is coming along... slowly.
Oh, and I'm in the process of learning my way round a MacBook.
Ted