i have to drag myself out of bed
at some ridiculous hour
and make my way to roselawn
where my beautician's shop is.
i hate getting perms. but by the time
six weeks rolls around my coarse
black roots are too thick to handle
so i sit in her chair, let her base
my scalp like a turkey and proceed
to light my head on fire.
but before all this happens,
she sifts through my hair to get
a general idea of whats going on.
and apparently, your scalp
can tell alot about whats going on with you.
she said, ashley,
your hair seems to be shedding
a little bit. it's not as full as it was
when you came in before school starts.
what's going on? are you stressed?
i thought about responding back,
well yes, ms. crystal,
i have had the semester from hell
and i just finished the finals from hell
and i have literally been pulling my hair out
in tears from stress plus i've been
looking for internships and
i lost my best friend and
my bank account is perpetually on E and
i've doubted every friendship i've ever had and
that's why my hair has been shedding.
but instead of doing all that,
i just gave her a sheepish smie
and said
yes ma'am.
