The Transitioning Files: When Frustration Turns Into Joy

So last Monday, I did my hair.  Nothing out of the ordinary EXCEPT it was 11 pm, I had a 8am class the next day and I was exhausted to say the least.  So as I started to do my weekly hot oil treatment, I contemplated thoughts of hair suicide.  What if I just chopped it off?  Forget this whole “natural” thing, I’m ‘bout to cop a hot comb and put some heat to this hair.  As I sectioned my hair into 4 even parts for shampooing, I questioned all things natural.  Am I crazy?  Who in their right mind chooses to do all these things to their hair?  I deserved to get paid for all the work I put into this.  As my fingers shriveled up into prunes and my red nail polish washed away, being gentle with my hair was the last thing on my mind.  Breakage my foot!  I wanted nothing more than to get out of the shower and go to bed.  About an hour later and a few gallons of water wasted, I stepped out of the shower.  Plan of attack?  Put my hair in its infamous bun and hit the sack.  As I attempted to slick my hair back into the perfect bun, I realized that my hair was having an attitude and wanted to fight.  After about the third attempt, I gave up.  In desperation, I tried to recall quick hairstyles that I could do with ease.  How many styles came to mind?  None.  My mind was blank.  Finally, I decided I’d much rather enjoy the company of my bed than the company of my hair.  Quickly, I did two side rolls and put my hair in a bun.  And when I say bun, I mean THE BUN THAT I USE TO ROCK ALMOST EVERY DAY IN JUNIOR HIGH AND HIGH SCHOOL.  Needless to say, I finished, wrapped my hair up in my silk scarf, and went to bed.  The next morning, I woke up, looked in mirror, and actually liked (ok, more like LOVED) what I saw.  Who would have known?

                              Nomadic Thought of the Day:                             Sometimes, the best things in life can be done eyes-closed, lights off, and in 5 min.

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