My Worst Nightmare

I had a dream last night. Well, it was more of a nightmare and I can’t stop thinking about it.

I dreamt I was washing my hair when I realized that it wasn’t shampoo I was using.

It…

~gulp~

It was a…

~Praying~ Lord, please forgive me for these impure thoughts.

It was a PERM!

~cringing~ I know! I know!

I felt so badly when I saw my chemically straightened hair that I ran to my closet and pulled out 6 packs of honey blonde synthetic hair and begged my Mama to braid it for me.

I’m not against women who get perms, but for me, it just means that I’ll have to DO SOMETHING to my hair. And that frightens me. I’ll have to wrap it or tie it up or either go to the hairdresser. ~sigh~ I don’t make enough yet to have a personal hair stylist so until then, I’m not getting a perm.

I’m supposedly letting my hair grow out. It’s been two months since I’ve had a haircut and it’s grown about an eighth of a centimeter. So now my afro is about half an inch long. Maybe I’m supposed to be bald headed for life.

Thank God I’m cute with it!

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Read this piece about the 12 days of Wilma. And I thought I was the only one who went crazy!