Friday, October 9, 2009

When imaginations curl

My curls inspire some dark thoughts. The kind that should never see the light of day.

Like, every morning, when I step carefully into my shower, I think about how I should have cleaned the tub better. I think about how the tile's slick surface is an amalgam of conditioners gone before. And I think about slipping, and falling, and breaking my neck in the pursuit of curls.

When I lean forward to scrunch out all the water and my back creaks its objections, I think about how I easily I tolerate this pain. I wonder how old I will be before it becomes impossible to assume this position for very long, and I think about what on earth I will do if I cannot scrunch water out and product in when I am in my seventies.

Stooped over to allow my hair to fall neatly into my diffuser, I'm aware of my neck's distaste for this position. I think about a woman I worked with who suffered from a pinched nerve and I think about what a foul mood she was always in. She didn't have curls, though, I reason, so no wonder she was bitchy.

On the train to work, I imagine myself slugging the idiot behind me who can't control his newspaper. Each time it disturbs the damp curls on the back of my head, I think about another way to make him resort to a Kindle in the future.

All of this before I even get to work.


gekko422 said...

Every morning when I step into the shower, I step in sooo carefully and make sure my foot has traction. Then I curse the gels that coat the tub regardless of how carefully I clean it.

Alannah said...

LMAO, I wonder about all of this too :o] one of these days I swear my back is going to give in while I scrunch my hair like I always do.......some how we get used to this bending over and stuff, but when we get old all this will decide to bite us in the butt one day.