36. It’s just a number. Just a year. It shall not defeat me. But it has tried to. This year has included a ridiculous increase in the amount of gray hair, sudden sun spots on my face and legs, the appearance of varicose veins, and an end to getting carded.
I haven’t found a good antidote yet, but I’m working on it.
I bought some wine.
And 36 ends in 3 weeks. I raise a toast to 37, may you treat me kindly.