My 20s. Manners. A time without bills. Will to window shop.
I woke up this morning and examined my nose for warts. Unmarried 30yr old spinsters are dangerously close to the witchy warty stages of life. People have almost stopped asking you when you're going to marry. They've determined underlying plumbing issues to be the cause of this affliction and bestow upon you furtive unabashed looks... Continue Reading →