Runaway Time

There was a time when I had to wash my hair every other day. On the rare occasions I was too tired, too lazy, too something, to shampoo my hair, I'd be punished with a sleepless night, turning and tossing in bed and scratching an extremely itchy scalp. The remedy was simple enough...

I'd roll out of bed and drag myself to the bathroom to wash my hair. Never mind if the water was cold or it was 2 a.m. After the shampoo I'd get back to bed and would sleep like a baby. Now, that was long past long ago.

These days I can't remember when I have last washed my hair. I can go for days without touching the shampoo bottle—seven days, ten days—hey, I must have gone two whole weeks with stinking, filthy hair. But surprisingly, no itchy scalp keeps me awake at night! My scalp must be so used to the dirt and grime that it has become immune to the muck and the living critters that nest in unwashed hair.

Google Image

Why don't I wash my hair more often? Time is a luxury these days, a precious commodity I can't afford to spend on myself. My clock runs too fast so I do everything in a hurry. In fact, I tackle a number of things at the same time. I have my breakfast while washing the dirty dishes/pots from the previous night and at the same time I am preparing the next meal and tidying up the kitchen and keeping an eye on the toddler so she won’t disturb Mr Hubby who is playing a game on his computer. I gobble up my lunch/dinner—meals that have taken me one hour to prepare—in five minutes.

                                         

My breakfast table on a typical day

If I'm quick at gulping down my food, I'm even faster in the bathroom. It's surprising how quick you can finish showering (and postpone your hair wash day) when you're convinced the house turns up-side-down when you’re not in the thick of things.

I've mentioned in an old post about keeping my things in designated places so that even in the dark I could get the items I need and I'd get very upset if anyone used my stuff and misplaced items. Well, this ‘making do’ in the dark has even extended to dressing. Everything is done by touch... like the visually impaired.

One evening we had to rush out to the supermarket so we would be safe at home before the downpour. As usual, Mr Hubby started the car and kept the engine running all ready to go before I was even out of the shower. I had to dress and get myself ready as well as  get the grandkid decent and help her with her shoes. I grabbed the T-shirt I had left on a hanger, got everything else by feeling and touching and got dressed in the dark. I didn’t want to waste two precious seconds to switch on the light. There was no need to glance into a mirror. Mr Hubby was waiting with smoke coming out of his nostrils. Hurry up! Hurry up!

The rain was just starting when we parked the car in front of the supermarket. We paused at the entrance to close the umbrella. There and then, under the bright lights, I noticed I had worn my T-shirt wrong-side out. I went ‘OMG!’ followed silently with ‘Lucky I haven’t stepped into the supermarket!’ I was vain enough to think that people would notice.

Dear reader, what would you have done if you had been me?

I walked back to the car, of course, shielded by the big umbrella, so I could turn my shirt right-side out. Oh, I could have done that right in front of the supermarket but I didn't want to be remembered for the wrong reason.

“Slow down and relax,” I tell myself. “Wash your hair and take time to make moments special and memorable. And sometimes it's better to have the lights switched on!” Easier said than done.