As I predicted, I have not been able to replicate the awesomeness that was my hair a few days ago. I am so envious of y’all who can actually style your hair and get it to look good. Some days I wish I were a guy, so I could go around with a flat-top (yeah I know, they’re out of fashion, but I like them) or even a high-and-tight. Throw in a little bit of gel and I’m out of the door.
I did have short hair (like really short) for a time, but I was always told that since my face was so heavy, I look better with at least some length. It’s a shame, though, since short hair is so easy to deal with.
You know what I did with my hair in high school? I’d take a shower in the morning, comb through my hair, and head off to school. I didn’t even bother with a hair dryer. As a result, my hair froze a few times as I waited at the bus stop. Generally my hair would be dry by the end of first period. At that time, my hair went to my waist and I had no bangs. Everyone said I had the most lovely colored hair, that I should never dye it, and I swore I never would. I kept that vow till I got to college, and then I promptly dyed it red.
The only bad part to having such long hair in school is it always got caught in the rivets of my chair. I’d lean back to listen to the teacher, and as soon as I sat forward to write something down, I’d leave hunks of hair attached to the back of the chair. It was fairly painful, let me tell you.
Do kids even take notes by hand anymore, or does everyone have a laptop?? I hated that in college, the one or two people that had laptops. It was so distracting to be in a lecture hall or classroom, and hear “tap-tap-tap, tappity-tap-tap-tap” as you’re trying to pay attention. Hey, I didn’t sleep through all my classes. I only did that in one class. I’m trying to think which one, and I’m drawing a blank. Artificial Intelligence? Probably.
Anyhoo, to the meat of this entry.
One week, folks. One flippin’ week.
Pardon me whilst I go throw up.
It’s a hard thing. Most people think, “Oh yay, your husband’s coming home in a week. Happy happy joy joy!” Yes, it is a happy thing, and I’m very glad for it. But it’s stressful as all hell too.
Folks, I’ve had my own space for six and a half months. I’ve been able to eat what I want, go to the bathroom when I want (we only have one bathroom in our house), watch all my forensic science shows when I want, go to the store when I want… I have been in full charge of Grace, and so we do things my way.
That’s not to say that Kurt is going to come home and “mess everything up.” I don’t work that way. Because he does things differently from me, I could just say that he’s screwing with the way things are done. But that’s just going to piss everyone off, and that’s generally not a good idea. What it means is I’m going to have to realize that things aren’t going to go my way all the time. That he’s going to do something different with Grace and I’m just going have to have to roll with it. And that’s okay.
It’s been just Grace and me for so long we’ll have to open up and make space for Kurt too. It’s going to be quite an adjustment, and while I’m excited that my husband and Grace’s father will be home soon so we can be a complete family, I’m also anxious. It’s a hard transition to go through.
But I’m sure we’ll make it just fine.