Today has been bad. Frustratingly bad. It all went south early and sadly, shows absolutely no signs of improvement.
Ran out of hairspray yesterday which, in and of itself, is cause for great alarm. Well. In my world.
Worse, against my better judgement … or conversely because I was too dadgum lazy to go to another store to get the right stuff … I ended up with hairspray I don’t normally buy. I do this all the time. I do. And it’s stupid. And one day, I’ll learn. But that day wasn’t yesterday.
I normally use Sebastian Shaper because, while it’s rather costly, it’s the best stuff. Oooh the best. Not stiff, not flaky … what y’all might call a nice, ‘flexible’ hold. All the good stuff hairspray is supposed to be. Unfortunately, the store was out of Shaper. Oh my. I began to sweat profusely.
While searching up and down the shelves for a substitute I came across Suave that claims … right on the front in big bold type … to be ‘just like Sebastian’. Really? I’m so not kidding. I took it as a sign. I did. And that’s the dumb part. If it was ‘just like Sebastian’ it would cost more than $2.40 and wouldn’t be on ‘clearance’. Cause, you know, Sebastian costs … ooohh … about five times that much.
Got the hair just right this morning, pulled out the ‘Just-Like-Sebastian’ Suave.
The only way in which Suave is ‘just like Sebastian’ is that it’s packaged in a cylindrical container with a spraying mechanism. Beyond that, umm … not so much. They’re not even kissing cousins.
After mucking up my hair, I then proceeded to add to my grief by stepping on the scale.
Folks, there really is a point when you should stop eating Easter candy. The scale and I agreed to meet tomorrow and try it all over again.
Left the house wishfully thinking ‘it has to get better than this.’ Turned on my windshield wipers, because … gosh, y’all had to know it was raining too. What’s a crappy day without the added pleasure of rain? Cold rain. 42 degree, windy, side-blowin’ rain.
Back to the windshield wipers.
They’re honking. No joke. As they’re dragging across the windshield rubbing against the glass they’re making a tremendously annoying sound like honking geese.
Now. They’ve been doing this for … oooh let me think … about a month or so. Hubby noticed it when we were out several weekends ago. He told me that the noise meant I needed new wiper blades. Pause. Sideways look to hubby. Bigger pause.
Very pregnant pause.
Does this mean you’re going to change them for me? Because y’all know I don’t even get my oil changed on a regular basis and replacing windshield wipers is way outta my league.
Today? They’re still honking.
And that’s all I gotta say ’bout that.
Get to the office and it’s now raining in torrents. What’s worse than bad hair and rotten hairspray? Bad hair, rotten hairspray, and no umbrella.
Lunch time rolls around … I’m skipping ahead to the bright spot of my day when I can actually exhale. Sorry. So. I tell neighbor co-worker I’m going to run out for a bit. Other standing-about co-worker asks, ‘Where are you going?’
I could see it coming. And I could just feel the hair on the back of my neck standing up. Well. Not as much as it normally does because of all that Suave hairspray holding it down.
I’m wondering why, if we all get an hour for lunch and I never personally ask anyone … ANYONE … to pick me up lunch while they’re out, why people do this? Personal pet peeve number four-thousand-two-hundred-and-seventy-one. Check.
It’s not a big deal. But. Well, it is.
The kicker is ‘we’ … and that’s the royal use of we, folks … decide on Subway. Not a drive thru. A park-and-walk-slash-swim-across-the-parking-lot place.
Recall … I have no umbrella.
I was thisclose to leaving his sub in a puddle in the parking lot.
I was. Am I going to hell? But more importantly, if I do will they have good hairspray there?