Prime of Midlife

I Refuse To Have The Crisis
Rude Awakening With Tangles

Rude Awakening With Tangles

As you may have noticed if you have been following my adventures, I am not at my very best first thing in the morning.  At least not before I have had my first cup of tea.  This morning however has been in a league of its own.

To set the scene – last night I went for a ride out on my motorbike with my local ladies bike club.  We didn’t go too far but it was enough to put in some mile and get home before the rain started.  No drama, no worries, I was feeling pretty good about myself.

Oh and seemingly I have arthritis and that is why my hands have been so sore recently.  Cue the arthritis bracelet and many painkillers and all is well usually.

Although I did give my arthritis bracelet to my mother the day before as her wrist was very sore so I thought it was worth a try.  My replacement arrived last night after my ride out.

All in all, last night seemed nothing special, or so it would seem.

Last night my hair had reached that length.

For anyone who has been on a motorbike or in an open top car, you know what I am talking about.  That length when your hair is long enough to actually tie itself in knots in the wind.

This morning I came downstairs, hair in a towel, put on the kettle for my tea and decided to comb my hair.  I have a wide tooth comb, bright pink and normally quite kind to me.  Not this morning.

To let you understand, my hair is poker straight, not a kink, wave or bend does it have.  This morning however it felt like a bird’s nest. As I drew the comb through the first time the pain hit, so like any sensible person I took a hold of the top and went to work on the knots at the bottom.  Guess whose painkillers for the arthritis hadn’t kicked in.  My hand was not impressed and promptly dropped the comb.

What normally take me 30 seconds ended up taking over 10 minutes ending up with tears in my eyes and a whole lot of hair stuck in the comb.   I haven’t felt that kind of pain since I was very small and my mother was combing my wet hair when she was cross with me.

Next on my agenda is snoods, hoods, buffs, bobbles and hairnets.  I absolutely cannot cope with that kind of rude awakening before I have even had my first mouthful of tea.

Who knew that the aging process could have such a big effect on something as simple as combing knots out of your hair.

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