I hate My Hair

I know. It's kinda strange to just blurt it out like that. But really, I just hate my hair right now.

Ask any woman. When she hates her hair, life is not good. It has to be fixed or it throws the whole entire universe off kilter. Well, her part of the universe at least. And my universe is veering out of control at the moment.

So the thing is, I don't know what to do with it. I think maybe it needs an exorcism or some kind of healing put on it. It's at that can't-see-through-my-bangs-sticking-to-my-head-stringy point. Maybe I should shave it all off and just start over? But who knows what sort of head is lurking under all this mess of hair? It might be some weird shape or have unsightly indentations. I'm not sure if I hate it all that much just yet.

I'm just blowing smoke. I have nothing to say tonight really. I'm just wasting time and ignoring the laundry. Looks like it's going to be another sleepless night. Might be time to get new chemicals from the doctor.

I dread going to work tomorrow. I couldn't focus at all friday afternoon. So all the work is still sitting on my desk waiting for me. I didn't even take a sec to put it all in order. I just crammed it into a folder and ran out the door. My Mom asked me if I could take a few days off to get my head together. And do what? Sit here at home and feel sorry for myself? Cry some more? Not sleep?

Sometimes, I seriously consider hitting the interstate and just driving until the money runs out. I think about it a lot. A LOT. I figure if I left on a friday afternoon right from work it would be Monday morning before anyone missed me. That's a whole 2 day headstart on anyone who might look for me. I could get pretty far away by then.

Then I think about Janet Leigh in Psycho. She ran off with the bank deposit on a friday after work. And we all know what happened to her. Then there was Thelma and Louise. They wound up driving off the Grand Canyon. But they did pick up and lose Brad Pitt somewhere along the way. I might need to think on this a little more.

If I miss a day or two of blogging, you'll know where I am.

Right now Michael Hutchence is singing in my ear. Can I just say that I like it very much when he says "there's something about you girl that makes me sweat." Why don't men talk like that? I guess fear of jail or getting smacked upside the head might hold them back. It probably depends on the man and who's making him sweat too. Michael is definitely on my keep list.

Ok, I've avoided the laundry long enough. I guess I'll give the hair one more chance tomorrow, but if it doesn't shape up soon, me and it are outta here.