Today I went for some feminine pampering, also known as getting my hair done. It's been a while since my last appointment and it was desperately needed.
What began as a severe lack of decision making ambition, became five months of,"I have to call for an appointment!" Procrastination is my middle name. My bangs got longer, my ends got ratty, and the roots revealed my true hair color.
What was once bright and shiny blonde, has become, in the words of my soon-to-be-mother-in-law, Great American Mouse, a lovely shade somwhere between dishwater blonde and, gasp, mud brown. Hey, at least there is no gray. Yet.
It only took three weeks of desperation to motivate a simple phone call.
After 3 hours of foiling, trimming, blow drying, I am reveling in my array of highlights and lowlights. My hair is now bright and bouncy. Just like me. Yeah, right.
Before I left, Jeannie made me write in my calendar a reminder to call, complete with her phone number. Yes, we have a plan. Which is good, because I need all the help I can get.
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