Open to interpretation.

Today's overheard snatch of conversation came as I was heading to my car from the gym. Three women were engrossed in a discussion. This is what I caught:

Woman One: "...you know, because I'm 47."

Woman Two: "Yeah, I'm 42."

Woman Three: "Okay, me, too. I'm 42."

Woman One: "Yeah, and it's just...it's just a weird time of life. Things really start...."

But then I was out of range. It would have been bad form to linger. Right? So, in the tradition of the old "Choose Your Own Adventure" series, I will suggest a few different endings for that sentence.

Option One: "Things really start coming together. The Universe suddenly makes sense. I feel like I have a clear understanding of my purpose in life."

I like Option One. It's positive.

Option Two: "Things really start falling apart. My knees are killing me; I have aches and pains in places I never knew existed. I tell you, it's pure hell."

Oooh. I don't care so much for Option Two. Sounds pretty grim.

Option Three: "Things really start spinning out of control. I swear to God, it's like I'm being pulled in 16 different directions every second of the day. I can't deal with it anymore."

Yikes! That sounds awful. I don't like Option Three at all.

If it's okay with the rest of you, I'm going to choose Option One and just go from there.

What really makes me smile about this? Somewhere, at that same moment, a group of women in their thirties was having the same, exact discussion. "You know, it all really comes together when you turn 30. Things just make sense...."