It’s crazy how fast the weeks start going by when you enter a more or less predictable routine. This week was a mess, and somehow I rushed to the gym on Thursday, thinking it was Wednesday, to make it in time for a yoga class I knew was at 6:30. At 6:35 I enter the gym, ask someone at the front desk where to go, and they point me in the right direction, looking a little confused. At 6:40 I enter studio A, am told where to grab a mat, find my spot in the room and look around. I am well below the average age, and as soon as the class resumes again after my surprising entrance, I realize I am in a yoga basics class, where we are told repeatedly not to strain our abs and every single movement is followed by a pause to bounce our legs.
At this point, I stuck with it, and spent a slow short hour working on mindfulness, but it still explains exactly where my mind has been the last couple of days.
Enter, Friday. As I stand in the shower after a (finally) intense trip to the gym, I decide that my purple shampoo isn’t taking to my hair well enough, and decide to mix up some conditioner and purple dye, because the last couple of times I have done this it has hardly made a difference to my color. Thinking it will leave my hair with a slight lavender tint, but generally just more of a silvery blonde, I forget about the hair concoction I have all over my head and emerge from the shower with a completely new hue.
The moral of this story seems to have been lost, but let’s take a moment to just appreciate the man-repellant effect of unnatural hair colors and the temporary cat-calling free zone it creates.
(This does not go for my own boyfriend, who has to deal with it.)