As nobody will ever be scrolling all the way down here, I may as well give a thankful shout out to Hershey. He is my dog, my frisbee playing companion, and my morning commute.
When I'm directing, I have an office to go to, but when I'm writing I work dangerously close to couches, a TV and a fridge. So I need to trick my brain into thinking I've gone somewhere else, as opposed to falling out of bed and remaining in my pj's.
So I get dressed, walk the dog, play frisbee with the crazy pooch, and by the time I get home, it will feel as if I just did a commute to some other fictional place of work. A place with no fridge or couch just there in the next room. Of course not. I just commuted. Didn't you see me leave the house?