Life
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Lesson Learned: Some S**t Shouldn’t Be Mentioned Electronically
Something happened to me this past week that I can only describe as a social media nightmare. Oh, who am I kidding? I actually did this horrifying thing to myself and have no one/nothing else to blame. And, from the moment I realized the atrocity I’d committed, I’ve been trying to figure out how to undo it—or (worse?) how to explain myself to the person on the other end. I’ve always told my two oldest children, now ages 18 and 13, that anything they put out via the interwebs, Snapchat/Insta/Facebook, email, text messages—ANYTHING ELECTRONIC, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!—could be there forever, and they have no control over what happens…
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Midlife Crises: Apparently, They’re Not Just for Men.
I think I’m having a midlife crisis. Or maybe it’s the world’s worst anxiety attack waiting to happen. Or maybe it’s some combination of the two. Whatever it is, it’s for real. I know you’re dying to know my symptoms, and I would describe them like this: a gnawing, ever-present feeling of dread, sometimes accompanied by more acute moments of panic (think heart palpitations, anxiousness, and the feeling that I need either a few Xanax or a bottle glass of vino). I always thought midlife crises were things that happened to middle-aged men when they began to question their careers, their marriages, their expanding waistlines, and/or their receding hairlines: they…