I Do Not Want To Play With that Hairball

In case you were wondering, you did read that right.

Hair that righfully belongs on your head, quits. en masse. And you are thus left staring at the ugly, unseemly mass of hair that is on the floor of your bathroom instead. Or clinging to your dress.  Or finding its place in the weirdest corners of the room; ignoring the pleas of the sofa that does not want its company. Or the carpet for that matter.

My husband and I are just recovering from our ordeal with flu. And Flu my friend, is not be confused with the common cold. The common cold is not accompanied by cough, throat trouble; nor does it leave you with extreme fatigue. Fatigue that makes you want to simply hook yourself  up to glucose, cuddle up and sleep.

The glucose is just not an exaggeration. It is so that you do not have to eat every two hours; invent recipes to eat for your taste buds are on strike; buy food to eat; cook food and eat; and most annoyingly, clean up after you eat. But I digress.

So now, when I am fresh out from the battle with the flu; when my whole body aches 'cos I drove it to college and back and actually survived it; my hair decides its had enough of this flu-infested-antibiotic-riddled routine.

As if it wasn't enough that I have to force myself to do what is minimally required to function, why do I have to fight the hair fight? Why is hair high-maintainance? Why can't it just function on its own? Why does it get tangled? (I forbid you. Do not think of  the disney 'tangled'. Do Not.) Why should my elbows ache when I try to set my hair right? Why? Why?

For once, I envy the tonsured you. I do.