Not with my running. I'm consistently running over 50k a week at the moment so I'm happy about that.
And not with my work.That's been manic for a couple of weeks now. Competition season is just a little way off and everyone wants to put their order in right now. Weekend work has started already and I'm having to work a few extra hours every day just so I don't drown.
No, the area that I've been a bit lazy in is my hair. It's been months since I've had a trim and a little longer since I've had it coloured. And we all know what that means - the shame of regrowth!
I've had a darker area become more visible around my part and that area's gotten bigger and bigger. It's like a message to the world that says 'I can't do it all' or 'I'd rather have a coffee with a friend on my limited down time than sit with bleach in my hair making my eyes run' or I just don't care any more'.
Luckily I only feel bad about it a couple of times a day - when I'm blow-drying my hair in the morning and any time I catch my reflection where there's good light. And, because my attention span isn't that great, those feelings don't last long.
But yesterday I saw something on TV that took away all my feelings of laziness and inadequacy of being a modern-woman-who-can't-do- it-all.
Ombre hair!
I'd heard of Ombre cake. I've even tried to make an Ombre cake. It wasn't as successful as the one in the picture but it wasn't too bad for a first attempt.
Who knew that I would be so much more successful at Ombre hair without even realising that there was such a thing? Give me a couple more months and I'll have hair a lot like on that box. Except that it'll be on a fifty-one year old. Which won't look anywhere near as nice. Or as trendy. My suspicions are that it will look like a middle-aged woman who's just let herself go.
Which leads me back to where I was - in desperate need of a color and cut but without the time to do it.
And in other news I had a lovely breakfast with some of my family the other day. My mom and sister were there. As was my niece and her family.
Nicole was feeding one of the boys and Nick had the other but Annie, their 2 year old wanted to sit at the table too so my sister lifted her up onto her lap. We were all busy in conversation and eating when my sister jumped up from her chair a little and deposited Annie onto the floor.
We were all confused until we saw the puddle on the floor and the wet patch on my sister's pants. Annie is in the process of potty training. Add that to just having done a swimming lesson (I can remember swallowing my fair share of pool water when I was learning. I'm pretty sure that I now have an immune system that could fight Ebola if it had to) and let's just say it was probably inevitable. I haven't had such a good laugh in a long time. Luckily my sister's pants were quick-drying so she only had to cope with the ignominy of the wet crotch patch for a short while.
