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what will I do with the rest of my life?
I awoke in the middle of the night, my eyes full of tears and my heart beating rapidly. What could have provoked such a scare? I couldn’t remember anything happening during the day that would lead me down this path of anxiety. No bad dream. This was not about the mid-life “dark wood ” that Dante had spoken of so eloquently. I had passed through that years ago and managed to find happiness in spite of having left the publishing world earlier than I wished. Then it came to me. Recently I’d received a barrage of mail from Medicare. I was turning 65. What would I do with the rest…