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Nital Joseph

@nitaljoseph
Cream paperback of F*ck, I'm 40 by Nital Joseph, standing three-quarters on a sand table. Extra-bold condensed black type stacked F*CK, I'M, 40 with a red asterisk in place of the U; jacket subtitle The new twenty. Times two.; author name NITAL JOSEPH at the foot.

F*ck, I'm 40

The new twenty. Times two.

I turned forty and nothing happened. No thunder. No dramatic loss of hair. Nobody collected my access to new music or issued a pair of practical pants. I went to sleep at thirty-nine, woke up at forty, and remained the same person—only now forms could insult me automatically.

This is not a memoir, although my life has agreed to provide evidence. It is not traditional self-help either. I do not have seven steps. I still do not know what I am doing. Any morning routine I recommend will collapse when somebody shouts “Dad” from another room.

Fuck. I’m forty. Not old. Not young. In the middle.

Nital Joseph. Wife, three children, self-employment, unfinished music.

Amazon listing soon

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