I broke this morning.
I’ve hung in there for months. I’ve accepted the fact that there’s no way to work out in air conditioning right now. (Yes, I know, I could load up a YouTube video but I suck at home workouts. Sue me.) I cook 99.999% of the time and try to write every day and laugh hysterically when someone asks if I’ve got plans for the weekend. I’ve even embraced the #silversisters movement.
That’s right. After twenty-odd years of covering up my grays I’m letting the silver grow in. Sure, I wish I’d been bold enough in my twenties to say yep, that’s a gray streak, that’s who I am. Better late than never, right? Right. But apparently four months from my last hair appointment was my breaking point.
It’s amazing what you can find with a simple Google search. How to change a tire. How to make a soufflé. How to crochet a pot holder. And a good ten+ pages on How to cut curly hair [unspoken caveat: without butchering it].
Apparently there’s something called a “dusting” which is even less than a trim, just enough to get the dead ends off, and since I’ve been feeling scraggly that seemed like my best option. So out came the scissors, out came the hand mirror, and then I gave it my best shot. I feel ten pounds lighter (no, not really, because again I MISS MY GYM A/C). Fingers crossed there isn’t some giant chunk missing in the back of my head.