Now, what kind of a title is that?
It is the kind that makes me a happy writer. Refusing to turn my home into an office I write in pubs, cafes and other waterholes. Now, plugging in my laptop is more difficult than what I had expected, and with only the one battery the computer came with I was down to just over two hours' worth of work. That, to put it mildly, limited my workload in the negative sense of the word.
However, a couple of days ago the spare battery I ordered arrived, something which ought to at least double the time available for writing.
Now, writing output, at least for me, is not a linear function of time. Four hours are easily worth three times as much as two, for the simple reason that each writing session involves a rather convoluted set-up. I guess it is a mental deficiency of mine, or maybe it is something rather normal.
No matter what -- new battery!