So, on my bus to work this morning, I felt a dread settle in. I tried to think of what it could be about--I like my job enough, I was psyched to see my friends at work again. But why, oh why, can't I just stay home and write full time? (Besides that pesky mortgage, I mean.) It's such a pleasant existence, me and my characters drinking coffee between walks with my dog. What a life it would be! Damn mortgage.