I'm not Writing

Okay, did anyone out there actually think I'd get any writing done down here? Hopefully not, because I haven't even plugged in my zip drive (where my wip - work in progress - is located.) I didn't think I'd get any writing done, but I thought I might try.
Isn't time away what a writer longs for?
But maybe it's because there is no longer anyone at home all day, but me. No one popping in at 2:15 or staying home because they're sick or calling to say they're going to Taco Bell after school. But I think if the kids were home and I was here - I'd be thinking I should enjoy the free time, not spend it staring at a computer.
And, at home, the house doesn't distract me - I have the amazing ability to ignore housework or to give it so little importance that I do it without thinking. Some folks, including my husband, tell me they can't work at home. Too many to-do lists constantly swim before their eyes.
For me being in a strange place means there might be something new for me to see. Or, when will I get to see the ocean again, or drive on A1A, or drink a margarita poolside, or . . .
And maybe if I was on a deadline I'd be writing here at the beach, however I think I know myself enough that if I was on a deadline, I wouldn't have come.
So, just thought I should set the record straight. And for those of you who are smiling and saying, "I knew she wasn't working." Give yourself a high five and take the day off.
I am.