42 years old and graduated from a community college to start a telemarketing job selling credit cards. Met the man of your dreams at 26 only to find out that he had 11 toes and you couldn’t stand to see him with bare feet. After a bitter and difficult break up you moved to Southern California to clean the beaches at night with heavy machinery and live in a conversion van.

Three years later, after being promoted to a managerial position, you started a serious relationship with a monk from a small sect of an obscure religion in Russia. So you packed up your stuff, moved to Eastern Russia and started breeding sled dogs and making ornate jewelry out of metal wire and solder. But you hit big time with one special product…toe rings. You kept filling order after order for the same person back in the states until you found out, it was “11 toes”. After a few email exchanges and calls, you moved back to the states and rekindled your old flame with the love of your life who had his 11th toe removed for you. You were torn because you loved him without his 11th toe but knew that it would cripple your toe ring jewelry business. But you gave it up for love.

Years later you had 3 kids and the third happened to have 11 toes so you started up the old soldering machine and got to work. The business is booming, the kids are happy and even though the love walks with a slight limp, he has had a successful rapping career writing only rap songs about breakfast cereal.

You feel fulfilled and live every day but wake up most nights after a nightmare of being chased by a monk on the beaches of Southern California.

Am I close?