I had an early meeting on Friday, so you'd think I would have stopped drinking before midnight Thursday evening. I did not. And when the wine ran out around midnight, I went right ahead and poured myself and my guest a nice glass of bourbon, saying "It'll be fine! I'll just add a little water to mine!"
Needless to say, I was tired yesterday. So instead of writing all afternoon like a good, ambitious little author, I had to go down for a nap around 3:30, like a kindergartener. While I napped, I had brunette dreams...
In my dream, I was on the phone with the folks at Escape Salon, making an appointment with Jason:
"What kind of processing do you need done?" the salon guy asked.
"My roots," I said.
"A foil, then?"
"Yeah," I said. "I'm not exactly sure what Jason does, but he always makes me ask for a long appointment when I book. Because I have a lot of hair."
"Okay, then. We'll put you down for a full foil. See next week!"
"Thanks!" I said, and hung up the phone with a smile.
Then I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth or put on make-up or something. And when I looked into the mirror, the me staring back at me was...a brunette?
Yes, there she was. Brunette me, from last winter. My hair was dark, and long, and lustrous, and shiny.
Oops! I thought. My hair's brown again! When did that happen? Jason is going to be so pissed! I'd better call the salon back and tell them I don't need highlights, I need a full color.
Then I started thinking about the situation rationally: How the hell is he ever going to get this color out? My previous visits to go from brown to blonde flashed before my eyes:
sitting in the chair for FIVE HOURS...
the burning sensation of the bleach on my hairline...
the part where my hair turned SALMON PINK...
the limp, lifeless, doll-hair texture that my hair ALREADY has from going blonde, to brown, and back again...
Sweet Jesus, what did I do???
A few minutes later I woke up. I grabbed a fistful of hair and held it in front of my eyes...
Phew, still blonde!
But goodness, what a nightmare!