Don't shoot!
There is something magical that seems to be happening to me now that I am 4 months from turning 40 years old. That something is a lot like staring down the barrell of a gun cringing as I wait for it to fire, my hands in the air, sweat trickling down the back of my neck. "Your life is halfway over!" the masked, armed citizen on the other end of the gun seems to be gruffly commanding me, "What do you have to say for your existence thus far???" Well, if you really want to know... My existence these days consists of a cat throwing up on our doorstep just before 23 people show up for a birthday party. I spend my time in three school pick up lines figuring out how to get my car's defective heater to be warm and the AC to be cool while it only runs at full blast. The heat and AC seem to work out of every vent but the ones that point at me. Of course. My hours are filled with juggling a very part time job with raising a teenage son, a tweenaged dau...