Ah, those were the days—full of optimism, grand plans, and a solid belief that by 40, I’d be sipping cocktails on some beach, retired, while my best-selling book hit the shelves. Fast forward, and here I am, still working and with more drafts than published pages. Turns out, life has a sense of humor. Retirement? Sure, I might get there—eventually. And that book? Well, there’s still time, right? The real plot twist is how time just kept going, and so did I.
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