3 years in a heap on the ground ain't that bad
The past several months have been all about minimizing and simplifying our home. My plan is to get through every room, cabinet, closet, pantry, bookshelf, toy box...anything standing, sitting, breathing and/or taking up space is being carefully scrutinized for it's contribution to our lives. Living in a 2 bedroom condo with a toddler...limited space can get claustrophobic in a jiffy.
So basically, nothing is safe. Everything is getting lined up on the chopping block.
I want efficiency. I want fluidity. I want to live more on less. I want to feel less entitled. I want to create more time.
My hair. My hair is a time-suck. She's so high maintenance, that when I say it's "hair washing day" we all know that it's basically the end of the evening as we know it.
Granted, if you ask people who know me, my hair ranks pretty high on their "favorite things about Janny" list. Well, I haven't polled too many people, but this is what I've been told. Either way, I should probably work on being more awesome in non-follically related ways.
My hair routine, start to finish, is nearly an hour. That in addition of all my other needs for PCOS and winding down and picking up the house. Going to bed takes me 5 times as long as it does to get up and get ready for the day.
Not only that, but in between washes, my hair is sensitive and picky. My curly hair folks know that we don't generally enjoy people touching our hair. Oh the frizz. #curlyhairproblems
Another thing. 90% of the time, it ends up in some form of a top knot, which incidentally, hits the ceiling in my car all the live long day. #longtorsoproblems
So...in an effort to get back a few hours a week, reduce the damage to my seemingly luscious locks and put an end to the lopsided top knots caused by driving, I have decided to remove this complication from my life.
Not to mention all the mad $$ I save on shampoo, conditioner, styling gels, pomades, and water for washing, plus electricity for drying. It's a win-win-win-win-win...
But we are going short. Like, short short.
As I'm also in the throes of figuring out some major hormonal imbalances, I sure hope my face clears up soon. I just won't have any hair to hide my face behind anymore.
It's incredible how much actual weight you feel released from your neck when you cut that much hair off.
I wasn't sad when I saw the long detached braid laying on the counter before me and the locks of hair getting hastily swept away by a salon stylist. But it's hard not to think:
- I was married with that hair
- That hair was naturally lightened by the sun in Aruba during our honeymoon
- I got pregnant with that hair
- I gave birth with that hair
- I celebrated anniversaries, birthdays and joyous occasions with that hair
But I also:
- Said terrible things with that hair
- Cried tears on that hair
- Ran miles with that hair
Ha ha. Yeah right. If you ever see me running...that's not me.
A lot happened with that hair. But...it's. just. hair. It goes in the trash or to someone in need, while my memories stay in tact. Properly and simplistically filed away in my mom brain. Which means, I have to refer to instagram to remember.
As someone annoying once said regarding memory issues: "You know, there are exercises you can do." And the wise one responded.: "Yeah. Well. I'll try and find that time."
Thanks for journey-ing with me. Now I'm off to find a wide variety of earrings.
Number of West Wing references in this post: 1
Hair by my trusted friend and former roommate, Arcelia Saavedra at http://www.salonamnesia.com/