There are times I lament not having a “real” job: I don’t have any employer-sponsored health insurance and working out of the house sometimes feels like I can’t leave “work” at the office (because, um, I can’t). But then I get a phone call at 1:30am to go out, and it occurs to me that one of the best things about my (lack of a real) job is that I don’t have to follow the rules. I can go out and drink some whiskey and only get an hour or so of sleep because, well, I’ll be able to take a nap the next day (i.e., in about 15 minutes). So while this may mean I don’t have health insurance if my liver ever needs attention from all these late-night whiskey nights, in the meantime I’m having fun having very little responsibility to be, well, responsible. Who cares that I didn’t get home until 7:30am?