Age — it’s what’s for dinner. Still I’m plagued by vanity and stared at myself in the mirror with air-sucking shock. Jowls! Wattles! Droops!
I have a black hole on the left side of my face near my nose. It’s been there almost my whole life. My dermatologist looked at it and gasped.
In a few naked minutes I learned that self-diagnosis is worth exactly what you pay for it.
Now I don’t mind being an XLG per se. Who cares, right? But I’m 5’2″, menopause weight 140, and if I’m an XLG, what is everybody else?
Soon a girl’s menstruation party will include gift certificates for Botox along with her first tampons. You’re never too young to fear aging.
Age is climbing up on me like kudzu, and I feel like I need a plan for what to do with it.
There weren’t enough hours in the day to process my life story, and it spills over into the dark when my dreams should be power washing my brain.