That day in high school when I took out my No. 2 pencil and filled in the bubbles on the career aptitude Scantron sheet, the last word I expected to see on the paper which came in the mail was the word, "nun". What the fuck? That is what I would have thought had that been in my vocabulary in 1986. ++++ I didn't write during the recent long holiday weekend. I didn't listen to the Creative Nonfiction Podcast and I didn't think about where my story was going. As I drove to my neighborhood Starbucks I didn't acknowledge, though I felt the presence of a hitch hiker I'd picked up somewhere along the way. The hitch hiker named, Doubt. I'd had a rotten night sleep. My dog, Ike, kept jumping on and then off the bed at 5:30 am, just close enough to my 7 am alarm that the pressure I felt to get back to sleep quickly, made it impossible to do just that so it wasn't surprising that I argued with myself as I approached the tur...