Confession

I am jolted awake by my alarm at 1:30 a.m. and stumble into the bathroom, where I scrutinize my reflection.  Bleary-eyed and without my glasses on, mind you.   

And I trust my sleep-deprived, half-asleep, semi-blind judgment?  Over and over again, yes, I do.

My typical routine is to wash my hair every other day, because that is what my hair finds agreeable.  But some random third days - actually, more third days than I care to admit, since that would prove I refuse to learn from my mistakes - I am pleased to find I’ve woken up with a perfectly tousled, sexy-disheveled look.  The kind of look hair products wish they could recreate.  People spend real time and money to look this good!  All I have to do is wake up and I’m already there!  

I am amazing by nature.  Everyone is jealous of me. 

I take my smug attitude into the shower, where I don’t wash my hair because I don’t need to.  My hair is freaking terrific.  I am high on my incredible hair.  Today is going to be the best day ever.  I have ALL the confidence.

Then… something strange happens. 

By sunrise, five hours later, my high has worn off.  Under the harsh, unforgiving fluorescent lights in my workplace bathroom, my hair just looks… dirty.  Because it is, in fact, dirty.  

Not sexy-dirty, either.  Just lazy-teenager gross-dirty.  Nobody wants to be that kind of dirty.  But I am!  And I will be all day long.  Again.  Didn't this just happen to me last week?  Yes.  And probably the week before.

There is no mystery here.  There is no question of what went wrong.  I know what went wrong.

I'm exhausted and delusional and I just need to wash my dang hair.  Every other day.  The end.