I’ve been telling my husband (and myself) for months that I need a haircut. Now, generally, by the time I start talking about needing a haircut I’m really 1-2 months past the point that I really needed one. This morning I was trying to decide just how long ago I’d first mentioned the need for a haircut. It was about a week before we were leaving on our vacation, which would put it around June 19. Yeah, June, people. Four months ago! So, I decided that all else be damned, I was going to get my hairs did today.
I left the kids with strict instructions to start cleaning the “boy cave” or to call their loved ones and start saying their goodbyes, dropped the paternal unit off for his dialysis appointment, and headed to the hair salon.
An hour later I walked out with a freshly cut and styled “do” and was feeling on top of the world. About that time, as happens sometimes when I do something nice for myself, I started to think that I need to make more of an effort. I work from home and, quite honestly, spend most days looking like a bag lady. My sweat pants are “comfortably” worn, T-shirts perfectly thread bare and there is always a hair tie within 3 feet of where I am in the house. Even when I do put on makeup I don’t make much of an effort. So, when I got home I decided to go all out and do up my face. I loaded up on products guaranteed to reduce any signs of actual skin coloring and then set about to create the “smokey” eye look.
After taking some pics and sending one to The Hubbin’ (he says he was at a charity golf tourney!). I swear my eyelids started to feel fatigued around that time. And then they got itchy…and red. I removed all traces of makeup and before I’d left the bathroom they were swelling. The red, puffy itchy eyes is really a far less sexy look than I was going for. It seems that being a TomBoy is a little more realistic for me. Apparently my face can’t handle the demands of being a “girly girl”. But I do have this one photo to prove that just one time I really did make an effort
