I look down at myself in the shower, and I am crooked yet again. My right knee is collapsed into my left one, right hip sagging, lower back concaved, both feet turning in toward each other. Lately, I’ve noticed my body always folds into itself in this same way. While I have tried to pay attention and undo my knees when they collapse into one another like this, I haven’t had much luck. Even in the shower, my body finds a way to come back to its crumpled comfort zone. Aging, like most tried to warn us, has come with a few twists and turns: knees collapsing into one another, a bit of grumpiness that never fully dissipates, weird stomach gurgling at inconvenient hours, frequent existential crises that can turn swiftly from overwhelming emotion to overwhelming apathy. If I could sum up the start of my 26th year in song, it would be part “Hand in My Pocket” by Alanis Morrisette part “Maybe This Time” by Liza Minnelli part “I’m Like a Bird” by Nelly Furtado and part “Closer to F...