Another summer writing indoors?

Am I willing to spend another summer indoors?

I already feel like an invalid or a recluse or something.

It will be the second summer of letting the garden go all to hell and getting all white and pasty looking.  I started the writing binge in September of 2012.  Last summer seemed particularly hot, and so spending time inside with the air-conditioner seemed OK.

I write best on my back, either in my dark office or in my bedroom.  Even better with the white noise of a fan or a cooler.  Even better with a soda and some chips or cookies. 

And now I'm looking at doing again.

I keep saying -- this writing isn't the most mentally or physically healthy thing I could be doing.  At least the way I do it.  I don't think I can do it any other way.  Either I'm totally absorbed...or I'm doing something else.

There may be no help for it. Summer will come around every year, but this inclination, this ability to produce words -- that isn't so certain.  It isn't certain at all.

There are a million things that could end this writing streak.  Illness, emergency, business or employee problems and on and on.  (Knock wood...twice.)

So this writing streak is so precious, so unusual, that I think I have to pay the price to keep it going.  I mean, what's more likely -- that being a writing hermit will hurt me, or that the the writing streak will come to an end?  To me, the latter is much more likely, so the former is worth risking.

So I think I'll probably do again -- with an attempt to get outside more than last year.  But I'd planned to get outside today, and by 6:00 I still had about 10% of my writing to do.

So the writing continues, at least until I've fulfilled the plans I've made for myself.