Under the dryer

The title don’t lie…I’m getting my hair did and eschewing those annoying rulz of grammar while I’m at it.  I drove an hour for this because I love my hair girl and not going to her anymore for my one vanity would be like going through a painful divorce. At least I imagine it would be like that. First world problem of course.

I’d forgotten how much a solitary drive minus Dora’s annoying questions or maddening Wiggles banter in my ear can be mind-clearing. Not to say that I’ve solved any real problems, first world or otherwise, by my trip to the salon but the quiet time in the car was a nice change.

Ok, I lied. There was no quiet time. My boyfriend, John Mayer was blasting that voice and guitar riffs in my ear. Yummy. Nom nom nom. Swoon. Oh…I’m digressing. Anywho.

And so I sit here under the whooshing of a hot hairdryer wondering things. I do that a lot. Wonder I mean. Wondering if this job thing is going to finally work out. Wondering if I’ll ever figure out what I wanna be when I grow up. Wondering how I’m going to convince kiddo that she cannot wear the same skirt/leggings combo every day of the year. Wondering if my scalp is being scorched because dang, its really hot under here. Just random stuff.

Rinse time.

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