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Middle 30s

I've been getting Dressbarn emails. I'm powerless against Bath and Body Works hand soaps. Hangovers feel like a medical emergency. And by "hangover" I mean the repercussions of drinking up to 3 oz of any alcoholic beverage after 9pm. Diagnosis: you 30, boo. It'll pass in 2-4 calendar days. Speaking of 9pm, that's the top end of my bedtime. The back cracks and knee pops that sound like gunfire pair perfectly with my non-true crime shows and probiotic infused tea. Tolerance for inauthentic anything and small talk: non-existent. Tolerance for eating leftovers so I don't have to cook more than twice a week: off the charts high. You know, standard 30s stuff. But what I wasn't prepared for as I turn 35 next month, is what feels like an existential crisis. That sounds a bit dramatic for what this is but it's the closest I can think to describe how I'm feeling.   2 years old introvert ready for her cake     It's not that I'm sad about turning 3

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