On the heels of turning 40, I recently had an epiphany as I stepped into an elevator a few days ago.
'Goddamn it, I want everything!" I exclaimed. Granted, there was no one in the elevator but me, however that was all that I needed... I put it out into the universe... I owned it... and seriously, I want it all.
As I currently sit, getting lost in a combination of the sound of turquoise nails gently tap dancing on the keyboard, whilst sipping on a Monster mocha, and occasionally falling into a trance from glancing over to the plume of incense smoke as it dances through the air, I realize as I inch closer to 40, workaholic vibes are starting to seep in, and I literally want to leave no stone unturned, which I find exhilarating, and damn awesome.
Coming from a life where, (and I'll be honest here,) I've been quite spoiled, I spent the better part of my twenties and thirties breezing through on looks and just enough. What's just enough, you ask?