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How I got here — told without self-pity and with appropriate dark humor. This blog contains explicit language. Let me paint you a picture. It is 6:47 in the morning. My continuous glucose monitor is alarming because my blood sugar decided to spike overnight for reasons that remain, as usual, completely mysterious. The dogs are making noise that means either they are hungry or one of them has to go out. I have coffee brewing, a seemingly dead tomato plant I am determined to re

We're told our 40s are the beginning of the end. I made it the start of everything.

He leaves you for a younger woman who still has gravity on her side and is possibly using your Netflix account. Deep breath.