Ok…I’m really not sure I should be writing about this but I really feel close to the edge on this one and the two people on earth I would trust to reach out to for validation and comfort are not answering their phone.
I was getting my hair cut today by a gal in her early 50s who I had never been to before in one of those chain places. We were chatting and I was having a pleasant experience but then it somehow came up that I had a baby who died. She asked how old he was and I meant to say 20 weeks and explain that I had been pregnant. When I said it, though, it came out, “twenty months”.
That’s not the odd part though. I didn’t realize I’d made the mistake until a comment or two had passed and instead of correcting myself….I just played along with it. Saying as little as possible about this “toddler” who had died. I even said it was a “stomach disease” when she asked how it happened. I made about 3 or 4 comments about it.
Thank God she started babbling on and on about hair extensions and her fifty bajillion dates she’s going on with younger men. I kept up appearances, I think, and acted normal but the whole time I was very upset thinking how strange….I mean REALLY strange it was that I’d done that and how I couldn’t wait to get out of that damn chair.
Why the hell did I do that? Why? It’s crazy and strange. I’ve been close to the edge before but I’ve never done anything like this. I have no excuse except that I’m awfully tired.
Have I gone off the deep end? I’m still pretty upset and scared.
And it’s not even a good haircut….picture Paula Deen with red hair. (Not that Paula isn’t a beautiful woman, it’s just not the cut for me)