I’m not sure when it hit me – that I needed to define myself as flunking forty. I mean, I have tons to be thankful for. And, I think we have good reason to look around and realize there are really terrible things in the world and our backyards and people are really suffering, so it’s probably selfish and narcissistic to start a woe-is-me blog and podcast about not being super successful. But I do feel like I grew up and went to school with a group of girls/women who genuinely thought – not were told – but believed we could do and achieve anything we wanted to and would, as a result, live some sort of Madison-Avenue-creative-team-conceived commercial-perfect life replete with cool appliances, trendy purses, active children, SUV’s, fit spouses, charity boards, financial advisors, and alumni-magazine worthy career titles. Wrong. So wrong. Wrongity, wrong, wrong. I’ve joked with friends something to this effect: “If you told me, back when I was 18 y...