You know the scene in When Harry Met Sally, when Sally is sitting on her bed, crying her eyes out because of a relationship gone wrong, and then she remembers this:
Sally, “And I’m gonna be FORTY!”
Harry, “When?”
Sally, “Someday!”
Harry, “In eight years.”
Sally, “But it’s THERE. It’s just sitting there, like this BIG DEAD END.”
You guys, that is so me. But without the hair.
Not that I’m 40, or even about to be 40. And it’s not that I’m even that worried about turning 40. Too much.
But I am 35 years old today. And leading up to this birthday, my husband and I have recited that portion of the movie approximately 4,637 times. It makes me laugh hysterically.
And cry.
Hysterically.
What? It helps with reality.
All right, 35. Let’s do this.
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