I turn 50 today. There, I’ve said it, which is more than some friends of mine can manage. One just calls it %) — shift 50 on the keyboard. Another describes her age entirely in fear emojis.
I should probably worry about the coronavirus instead of turning 50, but it turns out that I can worry about both. It doesn’t help that, in French the word “quarantaine” can mean both being in your 40s and isolating sick patients (because boats from plague-stricken countries used to wait 40 days before unloading their goods).
What’s it like to be in your 50s?