Wig

Perhaps it was a decision I made ahead of time. The "feeling of okay", I mean. Okay about my current state of hair. When I told my boss I had more hair than he this afternoon, he jokingly mentioned taking my wig off. I did.

The impulse that grabbed me didn't leave fingerprints. It was as if some invisible power had been waiting patiently for the opportunity of unveiling. My boss was shocked and so was Bridget. I called Michelle over the cube farm to come and see. She squealed happily when she saw me and immediately told me how cute I looked. Michelle even said I could pull off the short hair because I had my glamor make-up on. It made me feel good.

When the awe of surprise that had taken us all subsided, I put my wig back on. Embarrassment had nothing to do with it. They understood how I felt about having short hair and not being able to curl it yet with a styling iron. I looked like a completely different person with the wig off. And that's just it. I want to look like the me I know as much as I can until I can no longer hide the evidence of my recent journey. I will be forced to look like a different version of me again soon enough. By February 2011, I suspect I will lose the wig permanently and have the fourth incarnation of a look since January of this year.

Today's lesson: Sprinkles was extra brave.

xxoo

Wig