I made it through nearly 40 years of life without getting a tattoo. And then for some reason, when I turned 39, I started getting tattoos. In a matter of months, I went from 0 tattoos to 5 tattoos.
It seemed like every time I went to Reno to visit my sister, I’d return with a new tattoo.
But that 4th tattoo, well not long after I got it I started to regret it.
Of course it didn’t help one bit that after I got this tattoo, my boyfriend dumped me to marry his coworker.
Eternal love? Really?
The only thing I’m happy about is the placement of this tattoo…. on my back where I can’t see it and can ignore its existence.
I’m not jaded, but occasionally the optimism with which I got this tattoo mocks me.