Ah, here we have the writer in her natural habitat. As you can see she mainly writes on a blanket on the floor, observe the papers thrown around the blanket, one of them with what looks like a tomato sauce stain. Another one with a forest green nail polish stain. Of course there is also a cup of tea next to her, constantly watched in case any of the dogs come closer.
Listen to the different sounds. Not just the obvious tapping of fingers on a key board, or the scribbling of a pen on paper, but also a song of choice that she plays over and over. This example of the species thrives on repetition, after all.
Oh, look closely, she opened another tab. Huh, I wonder why she’s looking up a recipe for seitan, that’s not related to her writing. And no, tumblr is definitely not related to writing. Ah, she must be engaging in something that’s known as procrastination. Terrible habit but awfully common among writers in captivity.