Some mornings …..

Some mornings it doesn’t pay to look in the mirror

I stood, staring at my head in a sort of incredulous shock for a full five minutes. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. My hair was sticking upwards and outwards in a weird parabolic curve, like a dead bush out in the mulga. And I mean dead. Like some old straw stuff that comes out of ancient packing crates, or gets tossed in bundles in the corners of paddocks.

OK, so I went to sleep with a wet towel around my head, (it was hot dammit) but this morning my appearance was beyond a joke. It’s something about the blonde hair. Once it was admired for its golden sheen, but now it’s just a colourless old straw cap.

How are the Mighty fallen

Lucky no one sees me in the mornings