my hair is long. the longest it's ever been. if i were being honest with myself, this is the point at which i would admit that i need help.
but i'm seldom honest with myself.
i need no help.
today, i redyed my roots- which involves distributing a heap of black chemical goo throughout one's hair, which is then piled atop one's head to marinate for 10 minutes before being rinsed out. i did this as i've done this thousands of times before, but in minute 2 something went terribly wrong. the structurally unsound hairpile gave way, sending a thick, chemical goo slathered tendril southward to slap me in the eye.
i stood paralyzed, uncertain how to proceed. because for a moment- a short moment, but a moment nonetheless- i honestly wasn't sure which was more important- my eyeball or my half-dyed hair.