So, I’ve been having some pretty interesting dreams lately. The interesting part about them is not the talking dogs or even the conversations with them. The interesting part is that no matter who I’m talking to, the subject is ALWAYS about the glorious mane of hair that’s appeared upon my head. It’s always long and shiny and has miraculously grown in overnight. I always pull on it to prove to myself and to whoever I’m talking to that it IS real. “Check it out (tug tug)!”, I say. “Wow, it grew so fast!”, they reply. “I told you!!”, as I shake my hair like I’m in a Pantene commercial. It’s always a miracle in my dream and I even think IN my dream how I hope I’m not dreaming.
Of course, I always end up waking up with my hands going straight to my head to check for my long hair. But alas, no luxurious locks to be found. These dreams are so REAL and I can almost swear my dogs talked to me too although Coby does sound like he says ‘no’ sometimes. I have this dream at least once a week (not the dogs, the hair part).
Dreams are so funny. Hair on my head is what I want the most right now so my brain decides to play this mean prank on me every week. It’s ok. My scalp will catch up to my brain soon and then it will have to come up with something else to trick me with.
I’m so tired of these wigs I have to wear to hide my baldness. South Texas weather is not exactly conducive to wig-wearing. I asked my friend Chris something I never thought I would ask EVER. “Am I hairy enough?”, I asked. After she stopped laughing, she said yes. Halleluyer!! Hence I have come to a decision: I’m done with wigs! I have officially grown my hair to about half an inch which is good enough in my book for me to chuck my wigs. Good riddance. Vaya con Dios.
I’ll let you know when the hair dreams stop. I gather it’ll be soon.
lymphomaniac 