Holy mother-of-pearl! I found two, two, two grey hairs on my head yesterday. I realize that I am 37 and that this was bound to happen. (My little sister has been going grey for years. Sorry Ari, I had to tell.) I have been suffering from this crazy, insane notion that somehow I wouldn’t actually get old. That there is a portrait of me in my attic that’s grody and grey and sun-damaged.
But evidence to the contrary is sitting on my bathroom counter.
And I am sore afraid.