This is really too early for me. Predawn. I am evidently neither healthy, wealthy nor wise if the old adage is true. Also, no worms for me. But this year, I thought I'd try. My thinking is thus; if I can drag myself out of bed earlier, I could really get some stuff done! I could do sunrise yoga, or clean the chicken house before my first cup of tea. I could watch the sunrise as I weed a garden, or find the vacuum. A whole extra hour in my day could be awesome! Or, dangerous.
See, with my extra hour this morning, before that first cup of tea, before the chicken house was visited, let alone cleaned, I made a decision. I now know making decisions in the predawn may not be a strong suit. I decided to color my hair. I had bought a box of color in the late winter, when I was so tired of brown I couldn't stand it. And yet, being awake at the time, did not open box, but put it in the bottom of a drawer. I know there are lots of women who successfully color their hair. I am not one of the legion. So, this early morning, I took my perfectly acceptable post-summer blonde, foamed up my head per the picture in the instructions as the sun came up. Then the morning sun got to shine on my head so newly brassy, so grandly brassy it could lead it's own Disney parade. I won't call it "orange" because I don't want orange hair. If I did want orange hair, I might term it thus. I am most certain I will not hear any "Oooooh, I love your hair! What did you do?" But I might hear the last bit there. So tomorrow, should my ambitions stretch to rising again in the predawn to see the kids off on the bus, I have forsworn decision making altogether. Perhaps it will save me from painting my dining room a very chic black, or volunteering.
In the meanwhile, if you pass me walking down the street (technically impossible, but it sounds good) be sure to toot your horn- especially if it's a brass one.
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