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Twenty-nine

I was at the doctor’s office a few works ago for an annual check up. (For once.) As I sat down with the nurse practitioner, she looked at my chart and announced.

“Ah, I turned 30 last year. That one hurt.”

I must have looked confused because she immediately followed with, “I mean, I don’t know if you think about age like that.” Continue reading Twenty-nine

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All Singing, All Dancing

I’ve always been painfully sentimental. As a kid, I’d do little things like asking my mother to stop the car so I could go flip a turtle over after it got stuck on its back; I’d probe my grandmother for stories about her life out of an oddball desire to better understand life “back then”; I was prohibited from touching stuffed animals at stores because once I touched one, we had a bond and it would be so sad if we just left it there. (I swear that last one wasn’t an attempt to get more toys, I was just disturbingly thorough in applying human emotions and empathy to all people, places, and things.) Continue reading All Singing, All Dancing