Dear World,

If I ever had a step, I’ve lost it—matter of fact, I’ve lost more than a step, putting me somewhere in negative-step land.

This is how I see it going down: Tops, I’ve got two- to-three good years left in me. Then my slow but sure decline commences. Thirty-two to thirty-eight, I’m punch-drunk from the mental and emotional beating I’ve taken from life over the years and then I don’t even know who or where I am anymore.