One day last week I was getting myself ready, putting on makeup and doing my hair in the mirror in our bathroom while Kile was taking a shower.  I noticed one of my hairs didn’t seem to match the other hairs.  If I had highlighted my hair recently, I would have written it off as a stray highlighted hair and that would have been the end of that.  But I haven’t highlighted my hair in far, far too long.  I haven’t even colored my hair in a coon’s age.  No, this was something else.

It was a gray hair.

To be honest, I was sort of expecting it.  It’s been a rough couple of years and this last year has been a huge drain on me, physically.  I guess I’m surprised I didn’t see a gray hair before now, you know?  Some friends I know have been finding them for quite a while now.

But still.  A gray hair!  This means that I’ll actually HAVE to color my hair now, as opposed to doing it “for fun”.  And before you suggest I just let the grays come and grow old naturally and with grace, let me just go “HA!” and tell you, “Hell no.”  I don’t have a problem getting older.  But I don’t have to do it with gray hair either.  At least not yet.  Give me another thirty years or so.