
It was back in 2008 that I found myself, at the age of 47—a published writer, former spokesperson for TV and radio, once well-known in my field—mopping up splattered spaghetti sauce from the kitchen floor and catching watermelon pop-ups, while two small children took their best shot at killing each other from across the kitchen table.
As far as the business world was concerned, I’d hopped a flying egg-beater to Outer Mongolia and was forgotten with crushing ease and rapidity.
What had happened to my life?



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