Writing in bed

I am alone in the apartment. I was alone last night when I went to bed and alone when I woke up. I can't remember the last time this happened. I have to stop writing for a moment and think about it....

No, nothing. Maybe the year before last.

I wrote/worked on poems in bed for a couple of hours, then got up and showered. I've mailed off the release for the two accepted poems and I've heard nothing more from the magazine so I assume all is moving forward. As a result of this acceptance I am wondering what else could I submit, a rather inspiring wondering, so I'm not working on the novel again until school starts. I'm going on a course in November and my goal is to have some semblance of a word count by that time. But there's plenty of time. Until then it's poetry time. Especially today when I have no external obligations apart from (what else) a trip to the grocery store and later -- oh, much later -- to collect my daughter and friend from their day camp.