wash that grey right out of your hair...

Three weeks. In just three short weeks, my hair is back to looking washed out and blah. The box said "permanent". For some reason my hair loathes any kind of colour because the entire strand has taken up the cause and kicked the red right out. Usually with permanent hair colour, the roots come in and take over and that's that. Not for me. Not my hair.

I can't believe it didn't last three weeks. I had gone almost an entire year to see what would happen. I saw. I disliked. I coloured. Now, it is back. With a vengeance.

Aside from hair colour issues, I have had two bad hair cuts in a row. Of course, once I found a hair dresser I adored.... we had to move. The ladies in this town cannot cut my hair. Period. It had done an amazing job at growing out, and I just wanted a trim. Which in turn wound up being uneven. So I went back and the "hairdresser" perform the repairs. I wound up with a shorter style and- ICK!- layers. I waited a month and went to someone else who chopped and diced my head of hair with impunity. And now I am almost back to square one.

Sigh.

No more hair discussions. It is too taxing on my poor brain.

I am home alone. Clare is spending the night with her grandparents. She decided since it had just about been a year, she would go for a little visit. Greg is at work from 6pm till 6am. So it's me, the dogs and the little red & white hamster, Molly. Sadly, I am not enjoying my time "alone". I miss having Clare here and at least if Greg were off of work, it would be nice. I have been doing, what else, but vacuuming and tidying. My favourite past time.

Next time I am needed in about 5 different places and racing around trying to get everyone where they need to be, ready to tear my not-so-red hair out, I will remember the quietness here and now and be thankful for our hectic, loud life!