I can’t tell you how many times I find myself sitting bolt-upright, way past midnight, suddenly wondering “Why the hell am I doing this?!”
If I’m really, really honest, a lot of the time I’m probably doing it because I suffer from a need to be right. Right?
Typically in our house it goes like this:
“Are you coming to bed?”
“I can’t. This is important!”
“What?”
“I’ve got to finish this post.. it’s…er.. very….”
Clare goes to bed. 60 minutes of furious writing / editing later:
“Why the hell am I doing this?!” [Quits without posting]
