Fifty-one is a good time – the perfect time, in fact, to have a mid-life crisis.
I plan to live at least to one hundred years old, and fifty is officially half of a century.
When I was just turning forty, my ex decided he would have his mid-life crisis – and transferred the bill to me.
Yeah, yeah – one side of the story. Who cares, anymore.
But, I must have finally reached some kind of real base for myself after ten years of struggling through malarkaical circumstances to achieve any recovery.
I pant and twitch as account the cost, and wonder how now to define myself.
Candid Corvid Productions 