The Fear of the Drip

The latest COVID cock-block happened this weekend. 

My beloved hairdresser, Lee, cancelled on me because she is isolating due to both her children picking up COVID. Thankfully her kids are all but asymptomatic and she and husband are so far fine. 

But it means my hair didn't get the cut and colour it so badly needs. The cut and colour I was banking on to look respectable for my aunt's funeral on Friday. 

The cut and colour which would take the greys away - not that I have many greys, but the ones on the hairline get me down are there, sticking out like a pimple on a pumpkin.

And yes, I know I'm a vain cow and yes I know I'm trying to deny that I'm aging, but these are my foibles and I will own them. 

Anyway, I had a chat with Lee on the weekend as we rebooked my appointment for a fortnight's time. I asked about what I could do about those pesky grey's  - and she said to go into Hairhouse Warehouse and get some of that spray on colour which would do the job and make me feel a bit better about my hair in general. 

So I got some. It's easy to use. You don't need much of it, and thankfully, this is just for my temples. But still. 

I have a bit of a fear of this happening:

Thankfully I only need a little bit of this stuff to cover up these pesky greys. 

Let's hope it's not too hot in Canberra this weekend. 

And no, I'm not going to do the going grey elegantly thing - that's no going to work for me. Nope. I admire anybody who does that. Most of my mates who have embraced the grey look great - and they have a lot more grey hair than I do. And they have the contrast - darker hair than mine which looks great with the grey in there. If I let my hair go without colouring it would just look mousey and dirty. And though I have very little self-awareness when it comes to things like this, I am a Leo and I need to keep my mane in order. So, ner.

Anyway, if this is the biggest drama in my life at the moment, I am a very lucky woman. 

Today's song: