Every writer has those days. The days that are not for writing.
You set aside the time. You might even leave the house. You put on your favorite music. You go through your routine. . . and it just doesn't come.
So you start typing. Anything. Everything that pops into your head. Nonsense sometimes. You just type and type and type and finally it starts to roll. And then your phone goes off. Someone is coming over for dinner, there is no bleach in the house, the library called again and the books are overdue.
So you put your computer away, sighing because you know the rest of the week is busy and you won't have time to work. You clean your house like a crazy person, and you go to the store twice. You remember to pay the fines at the library. You enjoy your unexpected company, you cry and you eat chocolate.