On more pragmatic levels, it's slightly terrifying. In practice, I still have to do things on task that generate income and no one I know is going to pay me to masturbate and eat bricks of cheese while watching Better Call Saul for eight hours at a stretch. The dawning realization is that there have to be rules that I commit to following just like when chained to a public radio cubicle inches from the little twat I trained and who finally found the backhanded courage to impale me in the spine with Sharpies.

This time, however, the rules are mine to create.