We bought a house in Kansas City. I set up a writing room, which had a grove of trees right up to the window. I had a rocking chair and a computer. One of my eccentricities is that I must have a rocking chair in order to think! Well, I was all set up to become a writer. Except that sometimes I chose to clean the grout, sweep the basement, scour the sink, strip the wallpaper, paint the wall, and rake the leaves, anything to avoid the topics that were evolving on that computer! Yet, I kept up the discipline of writing 3 pages first thing every morning, taking a walk every day (weather related) and going on an outing alone, which happened to be a watercolor class. I had no desire to go back to work, but I did go back to therapy. I was grateful for the opportunity to live the life of a writer, but I was sabotaging myself day in and day out. One day, I was in the shower, squatting to scrape the old grout from between the tiles, and I had a revelation. This is not what I was supposed to be doing with my time! I was supposed to be writing! That’s when structure came into the picture.