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I am not an early riser by nature.  I enjoy sleeping in and just lazing around in bed.  It’s one of my favorite things about summer vacation, the relaxed schedule that allows for this.  I like to lie in bed and listen to the rest of the house wake up around me.  

But occasionally I will get up early for important things.  Like hair color.

Today I have a job interview before I go into work.  Which means I have to hustle the kids over to Grammy’s a little earlier than usual.  But more important than this-I had to color my hair.

I am extremely jealous of my friends whose hair has not betrayed them by going prematurely grey.  I look at Janell and Felicity and am envious of their silky brown-all-the-way through hair.  It’s a little early in the month for me to be coloring but I was not going to go into this job interview with my little skunk stripe showing.  Because surely that was what my interviewers would notice…not my qualifications, enthusiasm or experience.  My grey hair leaking out.  (The fact of the purple blotch on my temple where I missed wiping off the hair color will not be discussed further.)

Combine this with the fact that I sleep like total crap when Bill isn’t home and I was up-and-at-’em at 6 am this morning.  I left my sleeping boy in the bed where he had crawled after a scary dream involving him falling out of an airborne trampoline and headed to the kitchen.  Put on the coffee and then my hair coloring shirt.

Yes, I have a hair coloring shirt.  It’s a huge, black and yellow tie dye left over from when we were at Wake Forest.  And the neck has lovely purplish/black stains all around the neck.  It’s very sexy.

After years of coloring my hair I’m pretty quick at applying the color, of course this means I drip lots of hair color around the bathroom.  I mostly manage to mop it up before it turns dark brown and stains eternally, but there are several spots on the cabinets and the door in my bathroom that can attest to the fact that my hair color is no longer my own.

Once I mopped up said drips (including one on the carpet, thank you Spot Shot!), I headed out to the porch to drink some coffee and let the poisonous chemicals work their magic.  It was a beautiful morning…I listened to my neighbor water her flowers and talk to her dog.  The other neighbor’s fountain into their koi pond a constant trickle in the background, with the bullfrog that lives there offering up his occasional burps of contentment.  Watched a drunk cicada bash itself around in the trees and a confused bee get very excited bumbling around my cell phone case.  All sorts of assorted birds singing and greeting the day, while clouds straight out of a Maxfield Parrish painting sailed overhead, tinged pink by the rising sun.  Even the gunshots from the firing range seemed sublime on such a peaceful, pretty morning.  I was wishing I could head out for a run, sans ipod, but that would get DFS to my door and likely scar my kids for life if they woke up to me gone, so I will save that for a day when my husband is home.  

Then my son staggered out of bed under the weight of approximately 5,000 stuffed animals, his boy bed-head sticking up in a million different directions. 

Let the day begin.

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