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aftermath
By heather | September 21, 2007
I feel freeeeee (sings a little). So after that drunken (but still nice because I re-read it this morning and got a little teary all over again) diatribe I posted yesterday, all of a sudden I am in that fabulous space between old job drudgery and new job panic.
It’s Friday! I’m getting my hair dyed back to one subtle color this weekend and losing the freaky growing out highlights that were wrecked by summer chlorine! I’m getting my eyebrows done AND I get to go shopping for suits! and jewel colored blouses! and shoes! It’s fall! (throws up arms and spins around – wheee!)
Brett pointed out, rightly so, that I was upset for much longer when I quit my last job because that one I really did love, I was just so stressed. And knackered. (Love that word. I’ve wanted to use it ever since I went through my reading chippy English girl books phase.) Last time I was so unsure, for ages, about leaving.
This time I rest easy with the sweet certainty that I did the right thing.
So, onto more important topics, my hair. I’m feeling that disgust with myself that makes us do reckless things with our hair, like chop it off or change colors, both of which I plan to do tomorrow. Doing so will break rule number 3 from my Rules for Living by Olivia Joules (3. Never change haircut or color before an important event). And really, it isn’t even my hair’s fault that I’m so disgusted, it’s my skin.
My stupid skin which has never been pretty and clear and rosy except before age 12 and WHILE I HAD PREGNANCY HORMONES COURSING THROUGH MY BODY. I am coming off 18 months of the best skin EVER. I am at the same time in denial and making excuses like “it was the plane ride” or “it’s the makeup” but really it’s just my f***ing skin. Dammit. I hate being almost 32 and still dealing with this. I use good skin care (philosophy – thanks amalah and advice smackdown) and expensive makeup. I want to call the nice customer service lady at philosophy and beg her for help. I will informally meet my new co-workers on Monday. I have 36 hours to figure out how to destroy/hide/fix my face but in the meantime my hair’s gonna pay.
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