I hate talking about myself, even writing about myself, but here I go. I’m 35, a few days shy of 36. Happily single and a divorcee. I’m the crazy cat lady, though currently only have one cat.
All my life I’ve wanted to be an author. I’d carry around notebooks with me filed with story ideas ever since I could actually write. I also wanted to be a cop, but screwed that up messing up my knee throwing my bike to avoid hitting the neighbor’s dog as a kid. Continue reading