The very first thing that I do as my feet hit the floor in the morning, is run my hands through my hair. The story is old and boring. It (almost) always tells me pretty much the same tale. It looks and feels about the same as it did before I went to bed.
Not this morning.
I washed my hair last night and was unable to stay awake much beyond the point where I sat still. Usually I realize that going to bed before my hair is absolutely bone dry is a very bad idea. Last night? I was (apparently) too tired to think (or care).
I awoke with a rat's nest of a hair style.
I plugged in the hair straightener and fought with it. It still looked pretty funky (in a very bad sort of way). Usually I don't care what the back of my head looks like. But this bad style was working its way towards the front of my head and I couldn't ignore it.
Finally I sprayed my hair down and started over from scratch.
The free time that I had saved by washing my hair last night was all but lost as I fought my way through the mangled mess this morning.
I accomplished a lot (a little) last night and my reward this morning was to wake up to an empty agenda with lots of free time to sit and write. But I fixed my hair instead.
And that, is the reason that I have nothing to say and had no time to say it this morning.
I hate days that start with bad hair stories. But the good thing is that the 'lion has been tamed' and I can go on from here.
Isn't that the way it is with life? Little things get in our way. We let these things take priority when they are really insignificant in the whole scheme of things. Ask anyone who wishes that they did have a head of hair to contend with.
The good thing about a bad hair morning is that I do have hair. I have a lot. And for that? I am grateful.