Today I had a really good hair day. Not that I have frequently bad hair days, I usually keep my hair so short that it’s not an issue, but I just really liked the way it looked today.
You ever have one of those days, without even trying, your hair lays perfectly the way you would like it to all the time? I call it "Hollywood Hair" because it looks like a professional styled it.
Anyway, I left today in a hurry with wet hair, and even though it’s relatively short … I would have guessed it would have looked somewhat unkempt. But no!
Instead of being aware of the fact that my hair looked good and being able to use it to its full advantage, I was assuming that it looked normal at best. I mean, my day went great, but it would have went even better having that extra little confidence from knowing that my hair looked really good.
I didn't totally waste my good hair day though. I eventually realized it before it was too late.
My serendipitous hairstyle fortuity, however, didn't come until halfway through my day while washing my hands after using a urinal in a public restroom. I looked into the mirror to check my teeth for food, since I just ate salad, and caught sight of how well my hair looked despite the lack of preening earlier and having been out in wind several times since.
Then I also noticed that my goatee looked better today as well. Instead of being unruly, it hung straight and orderly.
I started wondering things like, “What shampoo did I use today? What did I wash my face with?”
Then I started wondering why I bother to comb it all.
I mean, I’ve been told numerous times my hair looks really good right when I get out of bed. Then again, that could be because the person telling me my hair looks “good” is trying to get my ass out the door.
Hmm.
What usually happens is someone will stop by and wake me up and inform me I’m going somewhere with them. When I go to make sure my hair looks fine, I’ll hear something like, “You’re hair looks good! C’mon.”
Then again, there are times I hear just the opposite.
Someone will wake me up and I’ll throw on my shoes and be ready to go and I’ll hear, “You’re going out with your hair like that?”
Apparently, it's at times like that that my hair makes me "look like a dork."
Usually when that happens, I don’t think it looks much different from the other times. I mean, it’s still messy, but also usually pushed more to one side. I guess it’s easy to tell it’s “pillow hair.”
Since I hear both comments, then maybe they are being truthful when they say it looks good right out of bed. Well, at least maybe they’re being honest some of the time.
Anyway, how exciting was today?
I’m writing about my hair and goatee! I need to get a Life.
Hmm … there has to be something to write about.
Oh, I think Mom is actually going to quit. I hope she does! She is under appreciated and in my opinion, underpaid. Someone doing all that she does and has done should be earning between $50,000 and $80,000/year.
There is so much I’d like to say concerning the matter, but I shouldn’t. It’s not my business ... it’s hers.
Plus, it’d do no good to start ranting and raving about it because the one thing that bothers me the most, I couldn’t even say because I’d fear for her safety.
That sounds so overdramatic, but if I could describe what I mean, then it’d make perfect sense. That’s one thing that’s worried me about her job.
-sigh-
That reminds me, I have to go over her resumé and create a cover letter. Why do I always get stuck doing these things for everyone I know?
I think they assume since I own a computer that I must “like” doing such things.
Yeah right, I’d rather be watching porn. Or cartoons. Or perhaps pornographic cartoons.
I suppose I better start that cover letter before I get too tired.
