Quote by Oscar Wilde on Monday’s Flower
On a cold, dreary December day nineteen years ago, I had coffee with a dear friend at the local Starbucks. Letting out a long and disillusioned sigh, I began to cry the blues regarding my upcoming 50th birthday. Menopause had crept in years earlier, and I felt my youth slithering away with the onset of this momentous age.
At that point, in my mind, I was still 35, but the mirror screamed something different, making it harder and harder to […]