perm.

every six weeks or so

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.