Day 104

I lead a pretty glamorous life these days. I am actually writing this blog post from my princess bed while drinking wine and eating Mike & Ike candies. Most people probably wouldn’t use the word “glamorous,” but no one fucking asked them. I’m so feisty today. People were really indecisive and it was getting me raging. I’m a BLONDE now. That was a decision, a very deliberate one. We all make a gazillion decisions everyday that affect the course of our day/week/month/life. Normally, I am the person who can’t make a decision (I am the girl who refuses to choose a favorite color). Regardless, it had me in quite the tourettes-esque verbal expletive tirade. You can understand why I’m self-medicating with alcohol and sugar.

Anyway, much to my dismay, the magic of the BLONDE has not been working. In these past 104 days, the magic of the BLONDE has helped make me more confident, bubbly, and whip-smart. I know that this is probably all in my head, but I think it’s starting to fade. My eyes don’t sparkle as much as they used to. My smile isn’t as electric as it was. I wonder if this is what it’s like when future drug addicts get their first taste of heroin or something. They have a sample of how great stuff is, and then it fades and all you can think about is getting more. I want my vivacity back! It’s starting to feel like an addict coming off of a bender. Or perhaps this is how Samson felt after that bitch Delilah chopped off his flowing locks. I’m sure that this is all related to working long hours and having work nightmares and being stressed out over trivial nonsense, BUT that doesn’t mean that it isn’t real.

I think the best way to get the magic back is to get some serious rest and stop trying to be as efficient as possible. I’m always trying to “get stuff done” that there really isn’t much of a chance to actually enjoy the stuff I’m doing. My stress is real, and it does come from other people, but I put a lot of it on myself. I can’t BLAME IT ON THE BLONDE ™. It’s kind of on me for letting them steal my sparkle, and allowing it to fade. I’m going to actually do my hair tomorrow, maybe actually put on some eyeliner, and walk tall – knowing that I’m the bad-ass hero of my own saga. And I’m BLONDE, too.

Today gets 3 Barbie Warhols: