Friday, September 28, 2007

The New Me

Did you ever have one of those days where you just feel completely "off"? A day where no matter what you pick out of your closet, it feels tight, or doesn't look quite as good as you remember it looking. A day where no amount of sugar or coffee fully wakes you up, where your normally clear head feels thick, and doughy. Don't even think about stepping on the scale on one of those days--no good can come of it. Inexplicable weight gain is the hallmark of O.O.T.D. And forget about your hair looking good; best to wear a cap or babushka until the day finally ends.

I've had O.O.T.D. this past week. It started with the full moon and the resulting insomnia / under eye bags, then the inexplicable five pounds that my enemy, the scale, gleefully flashed at me at 6:00 a.m., souring my day before it even got started. It followed me into my bedroom, where I experienced what can only be described as extremely critical closet anxiety. Then into the bathroom, where no amount of gel, spray, wax, or mousse was going to help my anemic locks. And, a pimple!

Of course it would have been nice to tuck back into bed with a bag of salty potato chips, and a stack of gossip magazines, hoping to avoid the inevitable personal catastrophes that those kinds of days seem to dish out so readily: spinach in tooth, bird poop on navy blazer, wad of gum on shoe, or the classic pantyhose run. But I've never been a quitter, and I wasn't going to start now. So I decided to fight back by doing something that day would never expect me to do: I headed to the hair salon to get a fresh, new look (I am sure that day expected me to be sitting around in my pajamas, feeling sorry for myself...HA!!). Three hours later, I emerged from the salon with a new hairstyle for fall, with my pants somehow feeling looser around the waistline, and with a bouncy spring in my step. And I swear--that for a fleeting second--as I turned the corner of the alleyway outside the salon, I caught a glimpse of a supremely glum looking that day sitting alone on the stoop, elbow deep into a jumbo bag of Lay's potato chips, proving to me yet again, that looking good is indeed the best revenge.

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