Over the last few days, I’ve gone from Tiger to Eeyore back to Tiger again, but I get ahead of myself: three days ago, I went for my winter-is-coming mild perm (a way to navigate my somewhat curly hair that falls over and plays dead in winter), but something went wrong. The perm didn’t take, and instead, it took with it all natural sway in my hair. I couldn’t help feeling flattened.
At the same time, the washing machine was broken, and we were waiting for its replacement, a migraine came and took up residence for far longer than usual, assorting little downers landed on me from passing clouds, and well, I just couldn’t get out of bed so easily.
I called my hairdresser, who I had planned to see in a few weeks to try the perm again. “You just can’t stand it,” she assessed with kindness.
“Kind of,” I replied. “I mean, it’s not as bad as chemo. Childbirth was worse too.”
We made an appointment for today, the new washing machine arrived last night, the massive amounts of Excredrin, rest and Star Trek movies finally took hold, and today, I regained my bounce. I know Eeyore is there also, but it’s lovely to have Tiger at the wheel again.