2007 will probably not go down as my favorite year, but I won’t tempt fate by claiming it’s the worst. That kind of reckless talk is what makes fate go Biblical.
Apparently it has been bad enough for me to start losing my hair. This morning we noticed a lot of hair on the floor near the mirror, and on closer inspection I noticed I was shedding hair like a certain cat at my parent’s house. John sized pieces of hair came raining down like dandruff after a quick shakedown. It’s not exactly coming out by the handful, but it seems like more is coming out than it should with a gentle tug.
I played a little internet doctor this morning to try to confirm my original diagnosis: stress. Hoo-wee, it feels good to be right (probably).
Cheryl was spot on with her reassurance this morning: “well, at least you’ve got plenty to spare.”
Author’s note: Cheryl didn’t really say that. I got a little carried away.