I was 34 when I left my career in non-profit volunteer management to pursue a lifelong dream of being a writer. When I wasn’t posted up at Starbucks with my laptop, I was taking full advantage of the liberties being a housewife afforded me. I went to bed late and woke up late. No longer confined to running errands on weekends or in the evenings, I grocery shopped alongside the stay-at-home moms. I went to the gym during the magic hour—after the morning rush, but before the lunch crowd. I freebased television shows, read for hours at a time, and indulged in leisurely, boozy lunches with the few friends I had who also didn’t work. In the evenings, I met my working friends for happy hour, and I was the only one who didn’t have to worry about feeling sluggish at the office the next day. For the first time since we’d gotten married, I was free to accompany my husband when he traveled on business. While he got his work on, I slept late and ordered room service. In fact, I do believe I took a trip almost every month that first year—Egypt for our wedding anniversary, girls’ trips to New York City and Colorado, and many more in between.