Sunday, January 5, 2014

Hairy Scary Mid Life!

I was talking on the phone with my new boss last week and he decided it was best to review an analysis I had completed face to face rather than over the phone. When he asked what my timing was (on when I'd arrive at the office) I think he was a little taken a back by the lapse. Guess now he knows what I thought was pretty much common knowledge in these neck of the woods. When it comes to my public appearance, I am definitely high maintenance.

No hair. No makeup
It is what it is...
Taken August 3rd, 2013
It's not because I wear a bunch of make-up, designer clothes, and jewellery; matter a fact, it's far worse than materialism. It's my hair. It's always been the bain of my existence.

You THINK that I have a mind of my own? Triple that thought and you are encroaching of the daily behaviour of my head of hair!

It's been completely grey for about a decade and I am embarrassed at the monthly investment I have had to make to ensure it conforms. The odd time I nail it. You know, when all the stars align and it submits, deciding to coif properly.

When it goes rogue? People burst into fits of uncontrollable laughter... and rightfully so.

The honest truth is that I remember the day I stopped asking my husband how my hair looked. It was the day he responded “Are you serious Rhondi? That's a harder question for me to answer than ‘do I look fat in this outfit’!”

Which brings me to my weight. Why does it feel (at this stage of my life) that maintaining my shape is an even bigger challenge than taming my hair? I don’t mean to whine. It's just that in trying on clothes for my upcoming trip yesterday, certain things became a very harsh reality. Once I stop exercising, everything shifts, and not in my favour.

Disappointed with my clothing exercise, my husband gently reassured me that he loves me and thinks I am beautiful. To cheer me up he asked me if I wanted to play naked Yahtzee. When I thanked him for making me laugh, he paused and innocently whispered into my ear "how about a round of naked Twister then?” 

Oh, my, goodness! With that right there, I'm certain my three grown children just died of embarrassment!!!

Chillax chitlins .... YA GOTTA LAUGH ABOUT IT





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