This morning was one of those mornings that I knew I should not have hit that snooze button one last time. I just hate being in what my husband and I call the “ultra jam mode.” I knew when I hit it for the fifth time I was pushing my luck.
I know this is going to sound crazy but if I don’t blow dry my hair within a small window of time and it begins to “air dry,” the whole “good hair day” will not happen. I just don’t feel like myself without my Rod Stewart “high hair.”
Okay, so no matter how many products I try to put on I just can’t get the look I like. “My day is ruined, my hair is too dry too blow dry.” Oh, and my bangs were acting crazy too, going in 8 million directions and kind of getting in my eyes. “Oh, I don’t have time to deal with this, I’m late,” so off I went to work feeling very uncomfortable in my skin.
So naturally, I pull out my small swiss army knife because I think “hey they have scissors on them. I then proceeded to trim my bangs which was “super hard” with these tiny scissors that were almost microscopic. I looked and felt very clumsy and got a lot of strange looks from my co-workers. “Jeez, it’s not like I was cutting my toenails or something.”
So at this point I’m feeling a little bit nostalgic wishing I had on my bellbottoms and desert boots because I sure looked like a throwback to the seventies.
And as anyone who knows me knows, I love any opportunity where I can showcase the famous family portrait of my sisters and I, check out our bangs. That’s me on the left and that is what I saw staring back at me in the mirror, “pretty scary, right?”