🤲🌞🗓

In the next (little over a) month, I’ll be 33—years old*—not bologna sandwiches. (inside joke) (I’ll let you in on it: overheard an older gentleman ask a little boy at Disney World how old he was, back when I was working there in 2012. The little boy says “four,” and the OG says “four what? Four bologna sandwiches?”)

Tangential to turning this age, and not to the inside joke, I think of the conversation betwixt the hot, older lesbian businesswoman & Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s character in season two of FLEABAG:

HOLBW
And what had Jesus done by 33?

FB
….Died?

HOLBW
Exactly, so get out there and flirt.

Have begun some of my own personal self-improvement adjustments. Have a small list sitting on my desk that I remind myself of a few times a day; *move in that direction* says the inner voice.

Also, earlier this morning I wrote a note that said, “In a partner, I am looking for a near human google.” This is NOT the direction I would like to move in. (A reminder of why Comedy is helpful.)

Focus: GOOD HEALTH, folks. Good health. Better finances. Confidence: I am woman, hear me roar.