Because it is my lot in life as a writer —
however anonymous — to speak of things that are entertaining and/or
truthful, I find myself often torn. Especially now that I am post-40,
going on 60. But I’m an open book, if nothing else. The only remaining question is whether said book’s ending is good or bad.
Someone thought my nose ring was a sign of the devil. Or gross or inappropriate, I'm not sure. In any event, he/she complained to the management at a club where I fill in as a substitute yoga teacher. I'm not sure exactly what the client said, but I wish I knew. That would be awfully entertaining.