It’s been a lively three days. I used the spa day Groupon and then had yet another mini-nervous breakdown. At least I’m keeping busy.
The color looks great. The haircut… not so much.
It’s not a bad cut. It’s actually verging on cute. But I asked for a half inch above the shoulders and ended up with a shoulder-to-hair gap of about two inches. In short (har har), a layered bob.
Whatever. In a month or two, it’ll be the right length. And, hey, I get to take more time in between hair cuts.
I had my facial on Monday. Very nice. Also an experience in oversharing.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one for holding things in (unless it involves conflict of any kind… or if it’s gas and anyone besides Tim is around) but I also try to be circumspect about what I tell, say, complete strangers. (Except, apparently, jokes about gas. And, one time on here, suppositories.)
Anyway, in 75 minutes, I learned that:
- At least three members of her family have gone to prison. Including her fiance and one baby daddy.
- The other one is an illegal immigrant. (Really not something you want to go telling people in Arizona.)
- The current beau wants her to have her tubes untied
- Her mom and dad got remarried. Shortly after the honeymoon, he announced he had leukemia. Turns out he’s just a compulsive liar.
It was entertaining to see what intimate, inappropriate tidbit would pop out of her mouth next.
A little less entertaining when she revealed she was molested by an uncle. After I’d known her for 60 minutes.
In the end, I came away with nice skin and a feeling that I’d watched multiple episodes of Jerry Springer.
I now have all my meds, but apparently everything hasn’t kicked in.
I thought the mania was ebbing — right up until yesterday when I:
- Stayed up until 3 a.m. because I had to finish a good, but not-that-compelling book
- Bit two of my remaining fingernails to nubs
- Scratched at my left eyebrow so much it’s now tender when I make any expression
- Was flooded with anxiety over the perennial favorite zombie theme.
The fear was worse than it’s been in months. I cried. I kept my hand on Tim’s chest to be sure he was still breathing (and so not a zombie and going to eat me if I did somehow manage to fall asleep).
It took me 10 minutes to talk myself out of the bedroom for a trip to the bathroom. Then I banged a door knob loudly and thought my heart was going to explode.
I’ve called in a refill of Ambien. You have to get sleep or your logic center deteriorates further. Much worse and I’ll be living out in the attic with a too-dull-to-help samurai sword and not enough canned goods.
Unfortunately, the last prescription expired. So they have to call the doc and get it renewed. So it could be a few days before it’s available. We might have to invest in some Nyquil tonight.
I miss being bored. And putting my hair in a ponytail. And I wonder where you go in Phoenix to get swords sharpened.