So I go to sleep and I tell myself that when I wake up in the morning I will decide on my new thing to do for the week and I’ll get straight to it. As I’ve been such a boring old arse hole lately, I’m genuinely excited. Typically I wake up in the morning with a cold. Swollen glands, all kinds of mucous and a voice that sounds like I’m a close relative of the Grudge. All I want to do is sink further into the ass dent that I have made in the mattress (it’s been a long winter of eating) but unfortunately I have to get up for work. I put on the radio while I’m getting ready and as usual in no time I’m once again informed that my life is suck in a rut and I am spiralling out of control. I don’t even have the energy to contradict him. Maybe it’s a sign, maybe I should just give in to old age. THAT’S JUST THE MUCOUS TALKING I tell myself and I pull myself together. I’m moving in slow motion, my eyes are blurry and my head is feeling quite fuzzy. I rush through my make up and leave late for work, the oh-crap-I’m-late-for-work-dash through the streets leaving me feeling worse than when I woke up.
By the time I get to work I have been sniffing so much that I’m pretty sure even my brain is full of nose gunk and that it is about to start pouring out of my ears so I go to the bathroom to blow my nose. I finally look in the mirror and get a shock from my reflection as I realise that I completely forgot to finish doing my make up before I left the house. I’m wearing a pale foundation with no blusher at all and I look like a ghost.
Normally I wouldn’t be so dramatic but there is a back story to this look. A week ago I decided to re-dye my hair brown since the California sun faded it big time. I went to the shop to buy a box dye and in my jet lagged state I wasn’t really paying attention to which one I grabbed. Turns out the ‘brown’ hair dye I thought I bought was actually full on ginger. Now not only did it turn the roots of my hair BRIGHT ginger, it somehow angered the ends of hair enough to make them turn a strange shade of shite. I was not looking my best to say the least. Gerry had the fantastic timing to arrive home from work just as I had discovered what I had done to my head and was having a mental break down. Gerry Brown to the rescue and he’s down to the shop and back in no time with a box of black hair dye. Mental breakdown on hold, black dye is applied. I then get to sit for 40 minutes and wait for the result reminding myself constantly that nothing could be as bad as the ginger/shite combination.
The result was that I could star in my own horror movie, it would be called The Pale Creepy Goth Girl That Keeps Getting So Surprised By Her Own Refection That She Screams Every Time She Sees A Mirror. I actually had nightmares staring my own hair.
Anyway as I said, I usually wouldn’t be so dramatic about make up but combined with the new hair I looked like the girl from The Ring movie. I had a 5 hour shift ahead of me so I had to do something. Of course I had been in too much of a rush to put any make up into my handbag so I had to get creative. Long story short my face smelled like cinnamon for the rest of the day and I was far from pale anymore. I was immensely proud of myself and thought to myself I bet this is how Bear Grylls feels all the time.