It is night and you are writing at your kitchen table. You don't want to be there, you wish you were in bed, but this has to be done. You have very small children, and your health has deteriorated to the point where you're trying to clarify instructions in your will to your legal replacement. It isn't going well. Instead of religion, education, medical information, you start to write about forwarding the parts with Ursula the Sea Witch and the right way to go for a walk (plan for about an hour per block; everything gets appreciated and discussed) and the importance of memorizing all the words to "In an old house in Paris that was covered in vines" (you haven't been schooled until a four year old reprimands you with disappointed gravity). In other words, you are in for a bad night.