Thirty
30 There it is. Staring me in the face------taunting me. Laughing that sinister laugh. 30 "Age is just a number." "Age is a state of mind." “You will be a real grown up now.” “Thirty is the new twenty.” “Everything starts falling apart after 30 hits.” I've been told both of these recently when mentioning my dread of turning 30. When I've pictured 30, it never looked like this----seriously. 30 30 looked a lot more June Cleaveresque, not this modern, independent stuck-in-a-world-where-literally-everyone-around-me-is-June-Cleavering-it-up view I'm living. And instead of having 1-2 children running around or at the very least a sparkly ring on my hand, I'm texting my bestie about freezing eggs and sperm donors (By the way, we're curious. Is there a magazine of donors one chooses from??) 30---if I keep saying it, it will become easier to swallow, right?!?! Thirty-Thirty-30-Thirty-30-Thirty-30 “And so I...