I feel like my time is running low. I'm *ahem* turning a certain age and starting to question too many things. Despite working very hard at fiction writing over the past few years, I haven't managed to get published and I'm beginning to think it won't happen. That I should give up and spend my time and effort working toward something more tangible. The worst is that my dad has just been diagnosed with an aortic aneurysm. It's not necessarily a death sentence, but it makes me question his mortality, and mine. I always wanted to be able to hand my parents a book with my name on it (officially, not one of those "create your own story books").

What the hell have I been doing all my life and what the hell do I have to show for it? Would anyone like to join me in a brief pity party?