I pride myself on being fairly unflappable. There are times when I have to say that I visibly flapped, but it was only for a moment.
The recent outbreak of just plain ridiculous in my world has left me a little jaded and wary. I can’t help but wonder if I’m setting myself up for the perfect storm of anticipatory crazy.
Case in point: I decided last night that I’m going to grow my hair out for locks of love. I did this the year after Mr. Steve died and I think it’s encouraging to set a goal you know you can attain (If all else fails, at least I know I can grow hair.) It’s insanely humid here right now, so I’m facing the triple threat of grown out bangs, humidity and recently washed, naturally wavy hair. You’re probably thinking “So what? I bet your natural waves are pretty and flowing in the slightly damp air. ”
You would be wrong.
If you have hair with any amount of natural curl, you know that “freshly washed” is your enemy. “Freshly washed” means your hair will stand straight out, sideways or at any number of angles out of your head as your hair decides what it feels like doing. The humidity in my geographic zone is NOT in any way a slight damp. It is actually the kind of humidity you would encounter if you were marching around in a lung, An actual human lung as it is breathing in the moist, tropical air in the Rainforest. The grown out bangs need no additional embellishment.
Last night I lightly coated my hair with anti-frizz serum (Oh, anti-frizz serum, why does your magic elude me?) and braided it, so it wouldn’t strangle me in my sleep.
I got up this morning and unbraided my hair. It was epic.
Imagine Elsa Lanchester in her signature role on the day the Movie Studio ran out of Aqual Net.
My hair managed to be big and lank at the same time.
This is when the roofers decided to come look at the huge hole in my ceiling.
I answered the door. One guy was visibly taken aback. The other guy simply gave me his card and walked in to look at the hole.
He must be having an interesting week, too.