My husband starts classes this week. It means he'll be out of the house two nights a week. And I am psyched. Not because I don't love spending time with him--I do, probably a bit too much. Having him home raises the question: do you want to write this evening or snuggle on the couch and talk or watch TV? That makes it hard to get my butt in the chair.
But now he'll be out of the house, and I have to go straight home after work to walk Chloe-dog. So that means I'll be home alone with every intention to cook myself dinner, and then write for a good solid hour. Then I might reward myself with some television and knitting.
I'll let you know how it goes!