Why Bad Hair Days SUCK

Today, I have a bad hair day. Not only is my fringe wavy from saying an outright NO to my straighteners, but the shorter layers have had to be clipped and hairsprayed down to look somewhat presentable and not spikey.

Not only that, my eyeliner has smudged because, instead of eyeliner, my hurried hands picked up kohl, which makes smokey clubbing eyes, not defined sensible work eyes. Not to mention the bronzer that failed to blend…

What these two annoyances have psychologically made me believe is if I can’t sort out a couple of short hairs or smudge-proof make up, what AM I going to be able to do at my desk today, with sharp implements like scissors and staple removers? Am I going to give myself several papercuts whilst I’m filing? Will I give myself concussion when I put the telephone to my ear? Electric shock when I turn off my computer?

I will not let my hair beat me. *In a way, Fran, your hair has already won…*

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