Partial Writer's Block

It all depends on how you look at things. For years I complained that my creative output -- plays, short stories, bits of novels -- were relegated to late nights or early-morning Sundays or little bits of time in between parenting duties and journalism assignments, which were my bread and butter. Of course, I blamed everything but the real reason, that I simply hadn't made enough time for something I loved.
Then suddenly something happened that changed all that. Suddenly the journalistic work mostly dried up -- for a lot of reasons but certainly coronavirus. Assignments concerning dated events were either postponed or canceled; new assignments weren't forthcoming. I wasn't alone among stricken freelancers, but the thought that many other people were adversely affected didn't really bring comfort. And after all, I've been healthy, so that was a lot to be thankful for.
One beneficial result of the virus, if one could call it that, was that I was finally able to find the time to write plays, short stories, and bits of novels. Can't say if they've been good or bad, but they've come into existence. 
One clever person wrote -- maybe it was in a cartoon == that the coronavirus proves that those writers who think they can complete a novel if they have a lot of time on their hands and forced time in their homes may not necessarily be up to the task. Time and space may not always bring the desired results. 
But at least they may bring more results than if those components are absent.
Well, now that I have five minutes too spare, guess what I'll be doing...