Bad-hair days for me start with, well, bad hair. Actually, not always, I suppose.
My hair is a great example of what is meant by the phrase "You look like a ‘shock of wheat’", as my dad used to say. I envy people who have hair that looks essentially the same when they get up as when they went to bed. I must be a violent man when I’m asleep as my hair looks like a war zone each morning.
So, where am I here… Oh, bad-hair days.
Such days might start with a night of sleep that just was not all that I needed. Perhaps took too long to get to sleep, and/or I spent too much time rehashing a topic in my mind that, well, in hindsight, wasn’t worth the hour or two spent rehearsing it. But I couldn’t stop.
Then when it’s time to get up, I’m flat. I take a few minutes extra to snooze with some loose notion that I’ll be better for it. Then, I’m annoyed that I got up late when I had intended to get rolling early.
Then there’s the mirror…. the one in the bathroom… where I finally drag this aging carcass front and center to survey the damage done during the previous 24 hours (or is it the previous 57 years?). You know, you check out the saggy face and still have a hard time believing it is really yours, the mark left by the pillow case across your cheek, the blood shot eyes, the less-than-six-pack belly bulging unashamedly (I suck it in for a pre-flight test for the day), and then, of course, there is the hair. In my case, ALWAYS a disaster. THE symbol of a bad-hair day.
As short as I think life is at midlife, these are days when I start out wishing it were over. What a waste! I’m feeling life zooming by anyhow and then there are bad-hair days that make me want to hit the discard button another one right off the bat!
So, how does this day usually go? Flat. Neither good nor bad – just off somehow.
It often is a day where I can’t put my finger on any one thing that is cause or effect, or why it is not a great day, but it’s something. Productivity is poor and I drift from one situation to another until the day is gone. Meetings and encounters with colleagues or students are less satisfying somehow.
Was it just not enough sleep? Something I ate or one glass of wine too many? Which? Any and all of these things, I suppose. Just a loose collection of things that conspire to create a temporary imbalance in my system. Who knows.
Oh, and the other feature of this kind of day? I’m looking forward to getting home and just sitting. Close out the world and veg for a while. Maybe a glass of wine… stare at the meaningless drivel from Facebook friends – some who seem to be having their own bad-hair days. That’s comforting.
Then to wrap it all up, there is the lingering annoyance that it was not a good day – somehow another day lost.
Fortunately, I usually have good days. I like good days. I suppose we all like good days.
This is a good-hair day.