Doomtown

I'm getting old. I know I'm getting old because lately, I've found myself questioning my beliefs regarding God and the meaning of life. That, and gray hair, aching joints, and the popping sounds each of those joints make every time I move. It's always encouraging as a massage therapist when the eighty year old client you're working on laughingly claims you snap, crackle, and pop more than he does. But mostly, it's the belief thing, and it's got me wondering if there really is a point to this crazy thing we call life. In the movies, when a man has a midlife crisis, he really begins to worry about death and what comes after. He also buys a toupee, trades his clunker for a fast car, and has numerous affairs with women half his age. At least, that's what Hollywood has led me to believe. I've got a boyfriend who satisfies all my needs (i.e. He buys me coffee when I run out...oh, and the sex! He makes with the sex. Can't forget that.)I don't have...