'Do you think God is punishing me for having sex with a man 20 years younger than me?
' This was the question I asked a close friend when I was about to file for bankruptcy back in 2011.
We watched each other become adults and now we are watching each other age. I meet my friend Geraldine at a hip, local eatery in the heart of Abbot Kinney in Venice Beach.
Yom Kippur, the Jewish holiday of repentance, had barely been over for 14 hours and I was already fighting with my husband. Over our poached kale and egg salads with a side of chickpeas I notice my firecracker friend is uncharacteristically glum.
Her fantasy may be a secret affair with a celebrity, someone at the office, or perhaps just a sexy and willing figment of her imagination.
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Has my Teflon-coated mind not retained a single shred of serenity? When Peter died, the only thing that kept me sane was writing about grief. I recognized that by spewing out my emotions with honesty, I was helping others which meant it was work that made me satisfied.