32 is my favorite number. It is a generous digit--divisible by two, four, eight and sixteen--numbers which also allow for dividing. Perhaps I'm programmed to think that the more a number can give away, the more beautiful it becomes.
Could it be that my life at 32 is teaching me the same? I am dividable by all sorts of factors--more than any other year before--and yet I don't seem to be losing any value. Instead, I seem to gain self-worth as I learn to divide.
Plus, my son thinks I'm a hottie.
(His words, not mine.)