The Tourist--Volume 104
All week I have been unintentionally revising my age upward. On Friday, I turned 42, but the number "43" is the one that sits on the tip of my tongue: "I'm 43--no, dammit, 2--today." It's just stuck there, like a stubborn wrong answer to a test question or a similar-sounding word that you swap out. Upward is not the direction in which one is supposed to…