Honestly, my world has ended so many times that when people speak of such things I tend to just roll my eyes. Been there, done that, and I have the tee-shirt, or at least, I havethe scars.

Once some people came to my door selling the end of the world and I was ready to buy, too! I’ll take three. Bring it on. Can’t get here fast enough as far as I’m concerned. I’m out in the middle of the street looking for the delivery truck.

The last time my world ended I was filled with regret, like I’m not finished yet. I’m like a pot roast that has not yet been tenderized. All we have here is a low grade cut of meat and some crunchy potatoes. I need time to slow cook, to infuse those spices, to spoon myself off the bone.

In the midst of melodrama…