Today is my 35th birthday, which means I’m 35, which almost has an more ominous ring or sense of tragic desperation or whatever to it then I imagine even 40 would have (at least until I’m 40). Because once you’re 40 it’s too late, but 35 drops this huge, heavy burden of five more years in your lap—five more years to make it (IT) before things REALLY start getting real. But I’m thankful I’m still here and I hope to post more. 

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