this woman’s work

I’m writing this from my laptop while sitting on our couch watching the baby bang around her toys. Yes, that’s right; we broke down and got an airport. That means I’m wireless. That means I no longer have to sit in the cold, dark, dank basement typing away while my toes freeze. That also means that there is no special place to go hide (and work) and that I’ve waved good-bye to ergonomic comforts!

The theory is that now I can huddle at the kitchen table and enjoy the boys’ company while I work in the evenings after Madison has gone to sleep. Brett and Noah play mad games of Uno, Squeezed Out (thrift store score — $.50), and Chess in the evenings and I miss them down in my dungeon. Also, this lets me get to Madison when she wakes from her nap without breaking my neck leaping over various stored items in our basement.

I’m not sure how I feel about it. Because our iMac is kinda old, I’m not sure that we can get it onto the wireless network. I certainly don’t want to try cracking it open to install the airport card. That’s best left to braver men, like Brett. So until I have time to unplug the airport, plug the cable into my iMac and send myself all my email addresses, you will not hear from me. I cannot write you. Please write me, if you like, so I can add you to my address book.

Now I need to get off the internet and work on an essay that’s been languishing.

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