Not been as prolific as in my blog bits at work since I moved to the solo post, even though I don't have anyone watching me over my shoulder when I write. I think the problem is the desk. My post is a desk inside a small concrete bunker of a room, in the building basement. A desk. My parents believed wholly in power of desk as the singular altar of study. Never would a good son work at the kitchen table, on the floor, or outside, for all these would be too distracting and informal. So I was expected to hammer away solely at my uncomfortable desk until all tasks were complete. I developed an intellectual allergic reaction to desks. Unless innoculated by an immediate external deadline, I can become paralyzed from the neck up when placed in a chair in front of a desk, But I will prevail over this insidious condition. Or I will get a laptop, which will happen when I start requesting my senior discount.