Whether or not I'm going through a bonafide mid-life crisis is uncertain. I mean maybe it's pure coincidence that I'm about to turn forty-four and life just happens to suck at the moment. But the cool thing about being a true Indie Girl and a grown-ass woman, is my ability to acknowledge life's current suckiness and its vortex of negative emotions without losing myself in it.
And that's the dude I turned The Rock down for. But rather than wallowing in misery and regret, I became a slut. Not a slut in the numerical sense, though. Let's just say, I lost any sort of cautionary discretion when it came to sleeping with someone before really getting to know them. Yes, even less discretion than cohabiting with someone within weeks of meeting. Put it this way: if I knew your name and you made me "tingle"... I was down.
