As I'm leaving work, a friend from the accounting department stops me and hands me a formal invitation to her eldest son's wedding. We hug and I congratulate her on the great news. I can see the pride in her eyes. She's asking me to bring my famous mousse cake. I say, of course, and I decline her offer for payment. Part of the reason we're so close is because we can relate to each other in ways other people can't understand. I have two kids, she has three. We're both middle-aged and single. We have the same taste in film and tv shows, which gives us plenty of conversation whenever we catch something new. Now the difference between us couldn't be more stark. While she's planning her son's wedding, I'm grappling with everything that's going on in my family life. Everything about her screams
