Remember those funny life essays submitted by people and published in Reader’s Digest?   That’s my life.  A series of funny, haphazard vignettes, strung together in uncompromising relentlessness.  Sometimes with no connective tissue, sometimes like a bad joke that sneakily turns up in unrelated chapters.  For years, my husband & I entertained our circle of peeps with our own narrations of these stories, laughing for hours well into night, at ourselves and the absurdity of how embarrassing moments make the best stories.  And for years, I’ve been told, “you should write a book.”  Okay.   I’m writing a book.  Not a real book.  Not one with real chapters and a cohesive theme.  My life has no theme.  It just is.

Nov. 1, 2020

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