Fabulous Forty

So I turned 40…

You know that scene in every disaster movie where some dumb bitch stumbles out of the rubble all dazed and covered in ash? That’s me. Crawling out of my thirties. Knees clicking like a haunted typewriter. Vision blurry. Holding a jar of pickled ginger because “it’s good for digestion.”

We’re here, and let’s talk about it…