When I went to bed last night, I was a typical 40 something year old woman. As typical as I can be. Then things changed. I had to be somewhere, and people were waiting for me, but my hair was a mess! I had to do something with it before I walked out of the house. I washed, brushed, dried, and styled my hair fervently. Suddenly it began to change. I mean, it really changed. I brushed and styled it more, and watched as the color darkened before my eyes. Then tight curls began to form, and before I knew it, I had an afro. I loved it! I came floating out of the bathroom so very proud of my new hair. My family was not impressed. In fact, I believe they were shocked. “WHAT have you done to your hair, and how?” I understood their shock, considering I’m a blonde/brunette with fine, straight hair. Regardless, I thought it was fabulous, and I had already made us late, so off we went. People everywhere stared and pointed at me. I guess a white girl with an afro isn’t something you see every day. I didn’t care though, I patted my hair proudly, and stopped in front of every mirror to check myself out. Then… I woke up
God awful alarm, dogs pawing at my face, and no afro. Back to life… back to reality.