So that's what 35 feels like...

Not great, not fab, not even new, only the pinch in the stomach when one remembers that as a child one was convinced that by that age then one would have been long married to a lovely man and be proud parent to at least one child over 10, and would be enjoying a fulfilling career. My what a hopeful but deluded child I was.

Instead the only novelty is the odd white hair and accumulating wrinkles around my eyes...

I guess I should stick to knitting. Much more predictable, more fulfilling, and the deceptions it may cause are never THAT bad.