my favorite: perfect hair day

As I’ve probably mentioned, I’m having a rather bad hair life. My hair has rarely lived up to my expectations for it. But last night I washed and conditioned my hair, and this morning I woke up to perfect (for me) hair. Not perfect hair, in the whole universe of hair, but for my weird hair it was an excellent day. If I’d had a photo session planned, I would’ve thought, “Yes, this is how I would like to be remembered at 58.” Alas, what I had planned was walking the dog and then riding my bike to work. I knew no good hair day of mine could survive those rigors. By the time I got to work, I was still having a pretty-darned-ok hair day, which is better than my usual lack-a-doo hair, so I was pretty happy with that. Why should I care either way? God only knows. I should be happy to have hair, period. But I guess I am just vain enough to feel like a good hair day is one of my favorite things.