The problem with work is that it happens during the day. 

Why be a writer? is the sort of question that should be asked of any aspiring scribbler – in a tone suggesting profound concern whilst shaking them by the shoulders and marching the towards the job centre. You might be your own boss, which sounds like a good thing, but unless you work for the council’s Parks Dept, do you really want a boss who lets you start gardening simply because the sun comes out? Mmm, perhaps it’s best leave that question unanswered, because smelling the bloody roses doesn’t pay the mortgage. And nor does writing.

I recently applied for a job, you know, it was a quiet day on Twitter and sadly the Life Assistance Agency doesn’t really exist; although if so it would probably be attempting to hook car keys from a drain with a coathanger. I…