Yes, it's official. I'm getting old.
*sobs lightly into my Horlicks*
I used to have my hair highlighted (see my blog banner pic for proof) but at the beginning of December last year I decided to go back to my natural brown colour. It was mainly a financial reason - being a stay at home mum means less cash to splash on non-essentials and although my husband said he would gladly pay for me to go blonde every 6 weeks, I decided to see if brunettes actually ended up having more fun after all.
Well, as Bertorelli used to say in 'Allo 'Allo...what a mistakea to makea!
at the hospital this weekend, I'm horrified to see so many spindly horrible grey hairs. Where the hell did they come from?
Yes, I'm going grey. I'm only 36. Balls!
Maybe they've been there a while? Maybe the blonde has been concealing them all this time? Maybe recent events with my husband and my daughter are to blame...perhaps the worry and stress has effected me more than I thought?
Hmm. Maybe I just need to face the fact I'm no spring chicken any more. Surely the fact I'd prefer to sit in snuggled up on the sofa in my PJ's rather than go out on a wild night should tell me that.
It's time to face facts, I'm going grey and there's nothing I can do about it. Time to order an electric fire and a shopping bag with wheels me thinks.
Thank f*** I'm going to the hairdressers tomorrow though!
Oh and at least I don't have a moustache. Yet.