I cannot write unless I have hot chocolate by my side, and only when the day has a T in its name. Only then can I settle down to write, but before I begin that I must check email. Then I need to check on some forums I'm subscribed to. Then I must replace my chair, for it squeaks. Then I am kinda hungry, so I buy lunch and eat it in the restuarant. I return home and sit down at the keyboard, waiting for notepad to load. Then I stare at the screen for three minutes and decide some music needs to be on. I create a new playlist on my iPod for when I am writing, and decide I must name it, which requires opening iTunes. While on iTunes I purchase a new single/album/ep/music video/podcast and decide I should listen to it straight away. By this point I am hungry, so I have my dinner. Then I decide to get my mind into gear, I should read a book. In the book is a word I don't know, so I look for the dictionary, but cannot find it. I drive down to the library and get a dictionary, but it does not contain my word. Then I question why I did not simply search on the internet. After I am done kicking myself, I compose a humourous email to a friend. By this time it is late, and I decide that I shall have to write during the night. But first I must compose pointless and overly-long posts that no-one will ever read for message boards. Finally I sit down at my desk, my eyes glazed, as I slowly realise that I haven't written anything in months, haven't done anything in months, haven't thought or felt anything in months. It slowly dawns on me I am on autopilot, sucked dry. And I realise that I'm not really here at all.