I toss my bag onto the bench, not bothering to properly put it on the knob. Another day; another boring, useless day. I stay in the entrance room, not certain what to do next. I’ve got nothing. No work, no one to go meet. I could clean my room. But I have to be in a certain mood for that. I can’t just start out on it without actually wanting to.
I sigh, running my fingers through my hair. I could dye my hair. I haven’t done that in a while—if you can count a month a while. I debate on what color to do. It’s always been between blue, purple, and pink. Biting my lip, I make my way to stand in front of my mirror. The light flickers on with a flick of my fingers, and I’ve faced with a tired looking me.
The hair band easily pulls out from around my blue sorry mess of curls, the strands falling around my shoulders. With my handy brush, I tame down the monstrosity to a minimum. I purse my lips, thinking. I don’t want to do my normal colors, but if I don’t, I’ll have to go out to the store again. But it settles in my chest that I need to do it differently. Pink or blue or purple are just too old.
Sucking in a gust of breath, I charge out of the bathroom and grab my bag and slip on my shoes. Fuck it. I’m going to go to the store and whatever the hell I grab is what I’ll use. I’m so over stupid decisions. My car engine roars to life for the umpteenth time today. I pull out of the complex and rage my way over to the closest Sally’s Beauty Store just up the road.
As soon as I pull up to the parking spot closest to the door, I hop out of my SUV. My feet pound on the ground as I angrily walk to the door and yank it open. Cool air blows my hair back from my face. Oh, I probably look completely mental. But I push that thought aside and stomp to the hair dying section. It’s a whole fucking wall; how am I supposed to choose? Gritting my teeth and closing my eyes, I carefully step forward and pull a bottle at eye level to me.
I don’t glance at it as walk to the register. The worker looks from me to the product to me again. “You’re sure?” Oh, god, what did I choose? Ignoring my apprehension, I nod once. She shrugs and scans it up. “Do you want a bag-”
“Yes.” I don’t want to look at it until I’m at home. I listen as she puts the bottle into the bag and then hands it to me.
I nod again as a goodbye and then trudge to my vehicle. The drive back to my house is short. I slam the door and then stand in the same place I was just thirty minutes before, my bag tossed haphazardly on the bench again. I slip my shoes off as well, pushing them to their spot. Okay. The big reveal.
I pull the dye out of the bag and hold it in my hand. My heart races like a horse, ready to leap or fall. Maybe both. I bounce on my toes, craning my head back to stare at the ceiling. With a quick breath, I shake my hands out and then bring the bottle into my eye line. What the hell?
I race to the bathroom, flipping the light switch. I grabbed a green? A dark green? I read the label. Emerald. Fuck. I breathe in. I wanted something different; this is it. And I already bought it. I’m not wasting a good twelve dollars on the indecision to dye my hair fucking emerald. I spent the money; I’m going to make it worth it. Sighing, I pull the usual hair specified bleach from my dye bin. Yes, I’ve got a complete basket for hair dying purposes. It just makes it so much easier than having to go on excursions. Albeit, my basket held no use in the actual hair dying department tonight.
