I’ve never been ashamed of the random gray hairs I’ve found on my head, only tried to pluck out the first few before giving it up as a lost cause. Now there are too many gray hairs to count and anybody who looks at me can see them. I haven’t hit that point in my life where I feel too insecure about it and hope I never get there.

What disturbed me today though (as I sat down to work but got distracted by examining my fingernails and hair for half an hour), is that I found a hair that is gray at the END, but brown at the ROOT. Have I gotten younger in the past six months? What prompted this hair, once turned gray, to return to a lovely shade of chestnut?

I was going to say, maybe it’s because my life has finally become a peaceful haven of stress-less milk and honey perfection. And my hair was miraculously rejuvenated into its original perfect brownness.

Yep, I was gonna say that, but  then I woke up. My life is far from perfect (not that I’m complaining, just stating the facts), so I don’t think this has anything to do with a dramatic change in lifestyle. If I were a more intellectual person and less exhausted and stressed, I would do some research on why my hair is aging backwards. But I’m not, so I’m just going to take it as a sign that I’m developing super powers.

Please excuse me while I go clean my house with my thoughts while simultaneously burning 4000 calories by eating chocolate ice cream. Maybe this is utopia after all.

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