It's so much easier to concentrate on something, anything, in the still and silence. How can you let your work absorb you when every creak of the stairs signals a potential visitor, and movie-of-the-week explosions infiltrate every fictional atmosphere? I get along just fine with my family, but I can't say I'm worse for having spent the last week without them. Granted, most of that concentration has gone to scanning articles and composing essays.
If they would just arrange these vacations for times when I'm not swamped with school work, I might be able to put this productivity to better use. But alas, no such luck. They return tomorrow morning, and I still have three weeks to go.
I suppose it's for the better. Someone needs to restock the fridge soon. Even harder to write on an empty stomach than in a full house.