It just seems right and fair that as you near your middle-age years, life should start making sense. And yet, while I recognize that I know more than I used to, I'm still shocked and awed by how little I really do know.
For example, what do I want to be when I "grow up?" In theory, I am a grown up. I generally like my job. But when I talk to friends and peers about the future, we all agree that finding our passion eludes us. Perhaps Oprah and More magazine have set the bar too high. I don't want to ditch it all to start baking cupcakes or run to a small, impoverished African nation and start an NGO, but there must be something bigger - right?
And what's with acne in your 40s? I thought that was supposed to end after the awkward teen years. In between examing my face for outbreaks and wrinkles, I hear my Aunt's voice in the back of my head warning of impending chin hair.
I'm trying to go with the flow; the path is just so unclear!
Stay happy....
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