A friend of mine passed away last month and I miss her.
Once, soon after I had moved to New York and was giving voice to an inner monologue that pretty much plays in constant rotation, she said something that has been balm ever since.
"Flo," I said, "Do you think I'm ever going to make a living doing this? I mean how will it happen? How will I survive?"
And this woman, this institution, this behind-the-scenes-tower-of-good-humor and no-nonsense who had stared down the insecurities of legends looked at me and said, "I wonder if you'll even be able to tell when you have a career?"