I am a writer. It’s true. People pay me to write for them. Honestly, it’s all smoke and mirrors. I masquerade and tomorrow I am back at it with a client who against all odds continues to hire me. This is when the insomnia kicks in. Right before I have to do the 9-to-5 thing.

Two in the morning. I’m just lying there hoping sleep will overtake me. By three I’m thinking of Positano and will I ever be an expat. Italian verbs are flying by and metaphors are swirling so I reach for a pen and when I wake up in the morning it’s all garbage.

I’ve realized that anything can sound brilliant and cutting at three a.m. but in the stark light of day you have to ask yourself what the bloody hell you were thinking.

This is where you come in. Buy something. Support my bad habits (yes, plural).