Okay. I’ve made it through the first two items on June’s trifecta of doom: The colonoscopy was fine, actually the easiest prep ever, and the biopsy came back fine, as well. The Memorial Service (in caps, because come on) was also fine.

It was a memorial. My Mom is gone. We made it through and that’s all I need to say about that.

Anyway, on to the upcoming weekend and the final item on my agenda of things that I’m not super pumped about: TURNING FORTY.

Gross.

But then I saw that Oil of Olay had this thing that tells you what age it thinks your skin is, and it told me mine was 36. So I can live in denial a bit longer, right? My skin hasn’t shriveled up into a prune yet, according to the internets, and that’s all that matters. I think...

...yep.

At any rate, the doom is almost come and gone, and then life will return to normal. Right? Sure.