Maybe we would all be better off if we decided to live the kind of life that we would be content to have written upon our faces.

Yet every day, I am told that I need to erase all of the things that made me who I am, either with a facelift or a wrinkle cream or makeup, in order to be deemed worthy enough to be seen as fully human. It's obscene.

Every single wrinkle that I have came from a joy or a sorrow or a rage that I was lucky enough to have felt in a way that only I could feel it. Not to get to "circle of life"-y, but that's how it's supposed to be.

Aaaand now we have an all-hands meeting to discuss the ominous-sounding, anxiety-inducing email, ostensibly to answer questions about said email that could have been answered in the email that could have been sent at a normal time. 🙃

Every group of friends needs this person.