One of the reasons I like being a writer is not all the fame, money, and adoring fans it brings me.It's because I have an excuse for a lot of stuff.

Do I indulge in just a little too much red wine sometimes? Yeah well, I'm a writer. Hello.

Does my family consider me self-absorbed? Narcissistic? A pain in the a*s? I hope so. If I wasn't "difficult," I wouldn't be a writer!

Do I ever come across as antisocial? Moody? Depressed? Possessed of a few strange phobias? I'm a writer - cut me some slack!

Meanwhile, in a very unwriterly manner, I seem to be rather lighthearted lately. Almost happy, one might say. But it's such a strange feeling, I hardly recognize it?

Is it possible for a writer to be happy? I'm not so sure about that. Probably just a virus. I'll be over it soon, no doubt.