Still half asleep, I peer into the bathroom mirror. My image scowling back at me. My inner voice telling the person glaring back at me, “Oh yeah? Well, up yours too.”
I am not a morning person. Clearly if I’m ready to start something with myself in the mirror.
I laugh at the thought of the ridiculousness of me.
Brush, brush, brushing of my teeth. Scrub, scrub, scrubbing of my face clears out more cobwebs and potential provocations.
My hair appears to have been brushed with an egg beater yet somehow I’m ok with the look of “feral, yet clean” vibe.
One hair in the front does not wish to be a mess with all the rest and I struggle with forcing it to comply when I see it.
The once blonde hair is now white and oddly kinked. As if it were a hair from somebody else’s head.
Uh. That was NOT there yesterday.
Is that what happens? You just go grey overnight? No warning? It’s not like it’s short and just growing out. It’s long and white to the root.
Do I pull it out? Why would I pull it out? If I get on the kick of yanking all grey hairs I’ll be bald at some point. I don’t think I’d look good bald.
Excuse me, is there a manager I can speak to about this issue? I didn’t order this grey hair in some other texture that doesn’t match the rest of my head. I’d like a refund.
My brain starts to spin. As a kid I thought grey hair meant you were OLD. I’m not old. And then I start thinking about my friends, they’re all mostly my age and they all have grey hairs or are completely grey - and they’re not old.
And I just got my 1 this morning.
Now I feel like maybe I was not part of the club and now I am. I’ve finally earned my space at the table.
Always late to the party.
It’s because I’m not a morning person.
PS
It must be getting early
Clocks are running late
Paint by numbers morning sky
Looks so phony
Dawn is breaking everywhere
Light a candle, curse the glare
Draw the curtains, I don't care
'Cause it's alright
I will get by
~ Grateful Dead
