T.S. Eliot once said, ""What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from."

So here I am, beginning at the end, or ending at the beginning, in reality writing from somewhere in the middle, with 18 years of journal writing behind me and a life that's beginning to look like a Where's Waldo mural. Here I am at work. Here I am in Los Angeles. Here I am torn between a bill-paying job that satisfies me like a single M&M and a theater company that takes huge bites out of me like bat boy at Thanksgiving. To hyphenate me, I would appear in your mind as a genetic gumbo, starting with ground zero: Single/Male/35/Senior Secretary/Writer/Director/Actor/Manager of a theater company/Musician/wreck in my most private moments.

That's the foreword to this book. I toss a definition out into the ether, with full knowledge that there's more to come. What particular dilemma am I working on today? Stay tuned...I think my boss is looking.