About 1/2 an hour ago, I popped into the restroom, and as I was washing my hands, I looked in the mirror. The rate at which I am going gray (quite suddenly) is astounding.
I don't think I'm that upset about going gray. My hair is so dark that I've never been able to dye it. (Well, never been able to dye it WELL. There were obviously many sun-in experiments back in the 80s, but let's try to forget those, shall we?) In my mind, going gray is my hair's way of finally letting me play around with hair color. I am a bit concerned with texture, as I realize that gray hairs are much more coarse, and if the ones showing up every day (hour) are any indication, mine truly will be quite insane. They are longer and more wild than my black hair. They're not mild mannered at all.
I like that about my new gray hairs. They might very well be in indication that I need to slow things down a bit, but I don't really have any intentions to do that. It would be fabulous to find more time to write and cook (and those are both goals for 2010), but I like that my job is high pressure and that my kids are crazy and that my life is filled with speed bumps. I don't do well with boredom, and my punky new gray hairs are kind of symbolic of that for me.