Welcome to the Millennial Midlife Crisis

When I was 10, I thought my father had lost it and that he and my mother were gonna break up. He came home to our tiny apartment in the wilds of Toronto’s suburbs one random Sunday morning with a head of newly permed, newly blond hair. To make matters worse, he was wearing a buttery, green leather jacket that obviously cost an insane amount of money that we absolutely did not have. Before I even saw him, I heard my mom — calling out in a panicked voice...