I don't have the energy to reflect on this shit...
I'm forty-ONE tomorrow.
My Angry Elevens are far more prominent than they were a year ago (so what?).
I'm pretty much blonde to cover the gray (I imagine this is how my mom became a blonde, too; though, unlike me, she totally looked like a natural blonde).
I don't know...other than that, I'm happy to be here.
I still feel young, sometimes naive, more often than not wise, and not at all hung up on "aging."
Women my age are fast and strong.
And some are even beautiful.
That's all. The end (of that).
More importantly, the day after my birthday, Bill and I will celebrate our fourth year of being hitched.
That still feels new most of the time.