For the past week and a half, I have been out of commission. No dates. No nothing. Before your imagination runs wild, it’s not because I found creepy crawlers in my nether regions… And no, I didn’t throw my back out in some crazy ménage à trois with a midget and a leather daddy.
Alas, I had the dreaded summer cold.
I spent the bulk of my time on my couch, snotty, trying to recover while watching romantic period dramas. As I watched Jane Austen’s Persuasion I couldn’t help to feel sorry for poor Anne Elliot. She was chastised as a spinster at age twenty-seven. This got me dreading my own impending birthday. I will be thirty-five in two weeks. THIRTY FIVE! Continue reading…