Nevergirl’s

I’m obsessing about hair again. I know, I know-it’s shallow, it’s trivial, and it wouldn’t make me a better person. But just before I go to sleep, when my mind is in that state between wakefulness and sleep, my mind processes clutter. Perhaps next time I’ll have better success reining in this mental tendency to wander. Perhaps next time I’ll think of more grownup things, like life insurance quote and mortgage. For now, though, I’m feeling drowsy and bothered by my hair.

Yes, my hair.

It hangs down my forehead, tickles my neck, lies about lifeless and lank when it should be bouncy and bouncing, and dangles everywhere my peripheral vision, almost like a mosquito I couldn’t swat away. It doesn’t help that my hair makes me look like He-Man, or like someone who eats too much salt. I think what I really like is a glorious pile of red hair that reminds everyone of Scotland. I don’t have green eyes but with hair like that, I won’t need ‘em.

I see red dye in my future now. Red. And, ammonia-less.

Posted Blathers |