The birthday card from my in-laws read “Your face and body still look twenty-five. But there’s something in your eyes that says ‘thirty.’ TEARS, I think they’re called.”
That said, I’d briefly considered swapping out “adult angst” for “despair” but changed my mind against it because it’d be inaccurate. I have a loving husband, a beautiful house, and the goofiest, cutest corgi puppy that ever was. Unfortunately, I also have, for no good reason, an unrelenting sense of foreboding. Maybe I should stop reading news feeds. 🙁