Yesterday evening I was straightening my hair. I am so in love with my new straightening iron - the type of love that is forbidden. As if to be able to straighten but maintain body and put a little curl on the ends to boot!
However, while enjoying the hair love that only the Wingo Onyx can provide, I noticed the gray hairs. on. my. head. It made me sick. Before it was the stray one or two - but now - there are more - many more. Alas, I am getting old.
There were the two nasty little motherfuckers who decided to grow right in front of my face - as if to make in roads to serve as a daily reminder. But there are more - on my crown - and a few of them were LONG! As to mock me and show me that they, the gray hairs are here and proud and have been secretly growing on my head without my knowledge. If it weren't for my highlights, I wonder how much worse the situation truly is!?!?
The motherfucker gray hairs are a reminder than even though I look pretty good - in fact am often told I look much younger than 32 - age really is advancing on me. My clock is ticking. Just yesterday I heard a radio commercial about becoming an egg donor - the maximum age is 32! Fuck!
The whole point is that my clock finally turned on. Is finally ticking. Which is scary. On a monumental scale. However, leave it to me to be a late bloomer - err, I mean late ticker.
Damn, why am I always late?