In May of 2012 my husband and I drove around the Amalfi Coast in a Hyundai Ito and managed to not get divorced. Instead we got tipsy on champagne and wine at a restaurant in Positano and I told him I wanted to quit my for-money-job and pursue a career as a writer. Rather than pull out a stack of envelopes from the US Department of Education and remind me of the unused law degree rolled up in a cardboard tube in the guest room dresser, he said OK, because he is awesome like that. Also he is super excited for the tax write-offs.

In addition to the awesome husband, I have a one year-old son, a one year-old cat, an octogenarian cat, and two middle-aged dogs. My law degree really is rolled up in a cardboard tube in the guest room. Heretofore, whenever I use the word “tipsy” in this blog, I mean “hammered.”