Friday, September 25, 2009

You'd think I'd know better by now.

So right on the heels of me saying that I need to learn to yanno, not work here I am. One day post epic food poisoning.

That's right, I spent most of yesterday unconscious or puking.

And yet here I am, slightly dizzy, sore and miserable at work.

Why?

Because I can't afford to be missing a lot of time from work.

But yeah wow fuck.

This is why I never take vacations. When I get sick I get really fucking sick and there is no way I can take the financial hit and lose the hours.

As the hours here tick by I realize i really probably should have stayed home. I think I've not thrown up by sheer will.

Ugh.

I started this five hours ago.

Good news, I only have two hours of work left. Bad news, I have two hours of work left.
~

I started that on Wednesday, and now it's Friday. I had to take yesterday off because of the hurling.

If nothing else this summer I have learned (again) that I really need to be more mindful about my body.

This is such a hard lesson for me to have to keep trying to get right my homies. Seriously.

I think as I've mentioned before this is poor person fall out. Even the shittiest wage slave jobs I've had, I've been hardpressed to skip out even when I really should.

It is really difficult for me to not equate necessary things like (sick time etc) with bad things. Losing my job, losing funds etc.

Instead of continuing this train of thought because it pains me I want to talk about my hair.

For a little history see this entry from December of last year.

For those of you who have been playing along you may recall I mention from time to time that I have been on an epic quest to learn how to take care of my hair and am growing it out for the first time in my adult life.

As this process has gone on I've discovered a few amusing tidbits about myself.

No matter how much I practice I am really just not good at braiding my hair. I'm not. I try, I practice, I watch youtube videos, I've had some of the kind ladies from LHCF forum try to instruct me and yeah. Not my thing.

And I finally stopped crying about it. No I'm serious people, trying to braid my own hair has reduced me on occasion to a trembling weepy mess with tangled hair. I am embracing the idea that yes, it's okay for a 32 year old Black woman to not know how to do this.

I've also learned that some people are going to judge me based on what I do or don't do to my hair and there's not a goddamn thing I can do about it. Yes, I can stew and be annoyed but in the end, it's not my problem.

But the biggest and most wonderful thing I've learned is that I am for the first time ever in my life (at least since I've thought about these things) I am in love with my hair. I'm talking deep, deep love.

The kind of love that causes me to spend time exploring the varied textures of my hair with my fingertips, I look at it, I roll individual strands between my fingertips and marvel at how strong they are. I love hos when I let my bun down at night my hair has heft and substance, it has a thick solid bounce.

I love that it gleams.

I love the variegated reds and browns from these last couple of years of hennaing.

I love that it's fluffy and big.

I love that sopping wet my hair is leonine and does whatever the fuck it wants to.

My hair is soothing. My hair is fucking fantastic and I love it.

And I'm deeply grateful I made the decision to learn to take proper care of it because if I hadn't, I wouldn't have learned about all the mysterious things it does or wants to do.

I'm also really excited to report that my first brilliantly white hair did not fall out as I feared. It's sparkly and a bit of glitter that I love.

Yes I love my hair.

Now I need to have some food. My packet of tuna is staring at me. Let me digress for a minute here and say that these tuna packet things are the fucking bomb diggity. I love eating plain tuna but can't always eat a whole can. AND I found the pouches of plain tuna at Big Lots for under a dollar. Win.

Okay now to end this with a foto.

excellenttexture

My sopping wet fluffy hair.

And now time for lunch.

And again, feel free to ask me whatever you want to about my hair and I won't be offended or pissed off.

Have a fabulous weekend. I'm aiming for a fatshions post Sunday maybe if I can get Uniballer to take some pics for me.

With that homies and haters, I love you all.

And take care of yourselves, matter of fact your homework until the next time we see each other is to do something lovely for yourself. Have a wank, have a nice bath, eat something you love, rub your belly, rub your butt (or have someone else do either of the latter two), dance, yell do something that makes you feel fancy.

Homo Out.
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4 comments:

witchyvixen said...

I wish I could braid my hair too, I would love that, but I suck at it. I mean I really suck. There is an upside to that tho. Whenever I have the chance I get someone else to play with my hair. It relaxes me like nothing else. My hairdressers (once or twice a year when I can afford one) don't know what to do with me because I get so drugged from the sensation that I barely say a word.

Risha said...

I'm glad you love your hair, because it's gorgeous!

Feel better.

Piffle said...

Sweet one, please take better care of you. I know it's hard. Have a nice cup of your Lady Grey and just curl up with a cuddly.

Your hair just gleams, it's loving all that loving you're giving it.

ChloeMireille said...

You'd be shocked how many hairstylists can't do/maintain their own hair. If they're in a beauty shop, chances are the stylists are doing each other's hair on their down-time.

I also miss the days when there was that one teenage girl on your block who did hair out of her kitchen on weekends or after school, and you'd pay her $25 instead of the $50 you'd pay at the shop.

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