Every year on my birthday I wait for some sort of epiphany to come over me. For a piece of wisdom or brilliance to come down from the sky. For some invaluable knowledge that makes me happy to be inching closer to 40.
Unfortunately, the only thing that came over me yesterday was a sharp pain in my right knee and regret that my 36-year-old metabolism can no longer handle the massive amount of cookies my mom made me for Valentine’s Day.
Other realizations came over me as well. Including:
- Despite receiving a Valentine present addressed to Ameena Pacelli, my husband will never stop thinking that American Express’ concierge service holds all the answers.
- Contrary to what others tell me, patience does not increase with age. (See point 1 above).
- Once you start covering your gray hair you’ll never again know what color you were born with.
- Abercrombie & Fitch’s sizing will never make sense. (Doesn’t their marketing department realize what a blow it is to my ego when I try on a Large, only to realize it’s Maya’s size?)
- Store clerks half my age will never stop referring to me as “honey.” This will continue to send my blood pressure through the roof.
I think we can all agree that despite turning 36 I still know…nothing. But that’s okay because in keeping with Ali’s logic I suppose I can refer to American Express for some answers.