Harridans anonymous

Although I'm vain, it doesn't bother me all that much that I no longer look the 36 I was when Rick and I met.

However, I do want to look the best I can.

No one would believe my red hair is its natural colour. Although Thanksgiving isn't celebrated in Switzerland--we do--and with plans to go out this evening to a great restaurant for a traditional Thanksgiving dinner, I didn't want to go with white roots.

I've told Rick, he'll never see me with my hair BEING coloured. Love will go only so far. I look like a bloody monster with bloody tentacles going in all directions.

 

Thus when J was at coffee and Rick was still in bed I started the transformation process. While the colour was setting I started checking email. Then Rick opened the door.

GET OUT!!!! GET OUT!!! OFF THE FLOOR!!! OFFFFF THE FLOOOOOOR!

No harridan, no fishwife ever reached this volume. In fact there screaming at people would have seemed dulcet in comparison.

He retreated quickly up the stairs, poor man.

When I was restored to my normal form with my hair blown and makeup on, I took him a piece of chocolate as a peace offering. We each accepted the other's apology. He wasn't to have known what was happening behind that closed door. I could have been a little calmer.

Now I need to attend meetings of both Crumb Anonymous AND Harridan Anonymous.