Ah, the best of intentions.
I made myself so many promises of delayed gratification – if I could just make it through the in-between period, I could have made it to the promised land, the land where all my dreams came true. I could have been proud of myself for sticking it out, for making it through the inevitable rough patches. I could have held my accomplishment aloft for the impressed gazing of others.
But, today, I quit.
Obviously, I am speaking of this foolish pledge upon the auspicious celebration of my birth:
Can you guess which one it is?
Need a hint?
It’s not No. 27. Silly people. The quilt is almost finished and I’ve already contacted a lovely organization that will take it.
Nope, it is No. 28 – officially on the chopping block as of today. I can’t stand it anymore, which may be inversely related to the increase in the temperature as we hurl our way out of May into hell that is June. The thing that makes this so funny is that I knew myself when I made that pledge. I knew I would reach that point where I would want to chop it off and I made the pledge to push through. So, what changed my mind?
Two words: hair drying. It has become a PAIN. And, as the hair grows, so will the pain of drying it because I have uber thick tresses that require a maximum blast of hot air multiple times over to dry. The time to get ready in the morning which is already inching upwards will continue to inch, and I will begin to resent the locks that I so lovingly dreamt about. I will also get very annoyed when I am drying said hair in an already humid bathroom on an already humid morning and will be sweating while drying my hair when I haven’t even finished drying off from the shower.
I gave it the college try and feel no guilt about jettisoning this particular pledge. Quitters may never win, but at least I’ll look damn good with my new short do.