Warning: This is long, but there is a point to this story.
Yesterday I had a bad hair day.
We often refer to having bad hair days. When you're not at your best and you're confidence is lacking. When things just don't go your way.
But yesterday, I really did have a bad hair day.
My hair looked like crap!!
And it needed to look nice because I was helping facilitate a workshop full of well dressed and fabulous looking women.
As you know I got up extra early yesterday morning. I spent my time writing to you guys and writing the minutes to a meeting I had chaired the night before and doing loads of work that I would have to shift next week to Chair that conference. And then suddenly it was 6.45 and I had an hour to get everyone up, lunches made, showered, clothes ironed, make up done, hair dried and out the door. (Yeah yeah yeah. People do it all the time. I know. But wait, there is a point to this story.)
I did the shower thing first hoping my hair would have a time to dry naturally for a bit. But alas, no. This is where the bad hair day started. For my hair to do as it's told, it needs some natural drying time first. Any sign of moisture even right down in the roots creates frizz. At 7.35 I started the electric hair drying process. I had to leave by 7.45. I had not enough time. Silly me. Hair didn't dry properly. Product didn't control it. Curls did not go in the right direction. Fringe did not sit. I had no time to contemplate the frizz. I ran out the door ...
I then dropped Darby (and his bike) off to a friend's house so they could do the bike ride to school together (and complained about my bad hair to the mum while I was at it) and then tackled peak hour traffic. I don't like peak hour traffic. I have always avoided it. When working in the government I would start work at 7.45 so that I could avoid peak hour. Now that I work from home and choose my own hours I definitely avoid it. Then I DROVE AROUND AN ENTIRE BUSINESS SUBURB FOR 30 MINUTES looking for a car park which was a truly fascinating experience and then walked three blocks in the wind to the workshop venue arriving 15 minutes late . My hair was well and truly cactus. Absolutely cactus pooptus.
I ALMOST had a Monica Barbados Hair episode. Almost.
Ok, well, it wasn't THAT bad. But I had a bad hair day.
It didn't change who I was, nor how I performed, and it may not have even changed how I was perceived (or maybe it did). But it changed how I felt about myself.
Is hair really that important?
Or is the importance we place on it overrated?
Tell me ... when it comes to hair, what is your care factor?
Then last night I headed back to Darby's friend's house to pick Darby and his bike up again after they had ridden home together for a play date. Again I mentioned my bad hair day. The mum just looked at me and said, "perhaps you shouldn't worry so much about your hair and be grateful you're alive." I looked at her in shock. Where did that come from? I think I'm a pretty good gratitude person and hardly ever whinge but today was a whinge day. Blame it on the wind. But yes, I'd forgotten my gratitude.
Remembering back to the post I did on The World's Greatest Shave last year I should be grateful I even have hair.
Then I really looked at her and realised she was looking a little "tender" in the way she stood and walked. When I asked her if she was ok she admitted that three days prior she had been hit by a car as she rode her bike to work. She was thrown from her bike, knocked to the road and was missing the skin down one side of her body and she had been knocked unconscious for a few minutes and spent that day in hospital. She had a "life flashing before her eyes moment" and was not really up to hearing about bad hair or lack of car parking. She was actually grateful to be alive.
Yes well, I can understand that.
That would constitute a bloody bad hair day. I really should stop complaining about mine.
So I did.
Today I am grateful for hair, car spots and being alive.
See, I told you there was a point to this story.