How to Cope with Snake Hair

8 Jul

I should have know that I was in for it at the first tones of my alarm. As I rolled over and hit snooze I could already hear the faint sound of conspiratory whispers along with odd hissing noises and, holy cow, was that a rattle? My hair was plotting my demise. Again.
I eventually pealed myself from the warm, seductive embrace of my comforter and stumbled to the bathroom. My hair was swirling around my head cackling and claiming that it was ‘called legion for we are many’. Great. Not only am I resembling a non-green skinned and unusually attractive gorgon, apparently my hair has been taking a 15 year old’s class in drama and emo-ism. Que frantic heating up of several appliances. An epic battle was staged. I lost. No matter what I was doomed to have massive volume with what can best be described as. . .snakes. . .in my hair.
15 minutes before I had to leave for work, I looked my hair in it’s, um, eyes(?) and stated in a voice usually reserved for convicts and two year olds, “Ok, hair, listen to me. I get it. You are apparently demonic. But you have two choices: You can either get yourself into some sort of attractive configuration within the confines of some bobby pins, or next week, I swear on all that is good and right in this world, I WILL CUT YOU.”
Screams of protest erupted and the whole ordeal was concluded in about 30 seconds with only a few serpentine tendrils sprouting from my scalp throughout the day.
And that my friends, is the sad truth of my supposedly good hair. It’s a weird texture and it has me outnumbered. Left to it’s own devices it goes feral.
I am sure that I am not the only one.

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