Last night I straightened my hair. That isn't unusual. I straighten my hair a lot, generally when I have somewhere to go or someone to impress, and I don't want them to notice that I have dreadlocks under my curls like a Rastafari bongo player.
The thing is, last night I had nowhere to go and no-one to impress. The only thing that was on the agenda was ‘Home Duties’*, and the only people I could potentially impress were my kids (who think my hair looks 'weird' when it's straight because I 'don't look like Mummy') and my husband (who has seen me on the toilet with a pore strip on my nose, so is probably incapable of being impressed at this point).
What's more, it was raining outside, and the forecast was for more rain, so I knew that my hair would remain straight for approximately 21 seconds once I left the house this morning, and, as any woman with a GHD will know, half straight hair is far worse than hair that is not straightened at all**.
Even more significantly, I still had to bathe the toddler, feed the kids, do some laundry, clean up, supervise homework and make the school lunches, and I didn’t have time to straighten my stupid hair.
So why did I do it? Because the straightener was there. Yes, I saw it when I opened the bathroom cabinet, an idea popped into my head, and despite the fact that the kids were waiting for dinner and the toddler was prancing around naked from the waist down, I just had to use it. Like an older Jessica Watson, the straightener was my boat and my curly hair was the sea***.
It happens a great deal. I’ll have a long list of urgent and important things to do, and I’ll get completely sidetracked by some non-urgent and irrelevant task. Like painstakingly cleaning our entire white couch at 6pm on a Saturday night when guests are about to arrive and there are clothes strewn all over the floor, a mountain of toys on the table, and several days worth of dishes still in the sink. Or suddenly deciding I need to trim my fringe at 7.30am when I’m supposed to be getting the kids to school. (Never try that one. The kids arrive late, and it takes a $120 hairdressing appointment to repair the damage.)
So what is it with my constant segueing? I feel like the only way I could keep on track is to stay in a bare white room with no distractions until the task at hand is complete. Trouble is, it would be difficult to prepare dinner, bathe the kids or get them ready for school in a bare white room with no distractions. I mean, for one thing, where would the food and the clothes live?
So for now, I shall continue my careless ways, starting one chore and ending up doing something completely different. I mean, even this post took me three hours to write.
I straightened my hair again in between writing.
It rained this morning, you know.
*using ‘Home’ in the sense of ‘Crap’
**actually I use an FHI, but I presumed none of you would know what that is
***just threw in that Jessica Watson reference to keep my post fresh and newsy. Cool, huh?