If you've been reading for long, you might know that I love to do wishlists for birthdays & the winter holidays - not because I expect to get anything, but because I don't think enough adults create wishlists anymore, ya know. And it's fun. Indulgent. Frivolous. And sort of recaptures some of that childlike excitement that used to come with turning another year older.
I'll be turning 35 in August, & that feels pretty weird, I've got to be honest. I had a total life crisis when I turned 25 because I felt so close to 30 - & now, here I am, a decade late, chuggin' along toward 40. Damn.
So, uh, let's not think about the mortality of it all. Instead, let's think about all the presents I'd buy for myself if I were a rich (wo)man. Cue Tevye.