Well, I’m not as redneck as I thought. Because I didn’t murder my ex-husband. And let me tell you, he had it coming. I had a hundred different ways to do it. No matter how it happened, it would have taken him by surprise. He thought I loved him too much to kill him. My first thought was to kill him. I’ve told this story several times in the last year or so, and there’s always a moment of total stillness when I pause, just like after you take a shot of tequila. The moment of clarity, of slight pain when you’re just trying to breathe again, and thinking about the effects of your actions. It’s just a perfectly quiet moment. Notice, next time you’re doing shots. Then there’s the exhale. Here’s the story. It was only about 10:30, even though in the movies it’s always the middle of the night. I remember thinking that was ironic. And it was summer, one of those June nights, when no evil ever strikes. But it had. That’s the thing about life. It’s original and unexpected. It wasn’t storming, it wasn’t a full moon (but almost). I read the message and I didn’t cry. I didn’t throw up. I began to shake. And I pivoted on my heel and…