Dear Mother Nature

Dear Mother Nature,

I’d like to lodge a formal complaint. I feel like I’ve been thoroughly mis-sold to.

When I was a kid, it was all about rattling through your birthdays as quickly as you possibly could in order to get to adulthood. Adulthood – according to my peers and the glossy magazines you found in doctors’ waiting rooms before they realised just how many germs they harboured – was basically the holy grail of life.

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