This morning I’m like one of those MIT super geniuses who can crack equations faster than a supercomputer, but don’t have enough time to be clean.
After yesterday, which was one of the worst days I’ve had in a while (and if you know my life, that is saying plenty), I woke up this morning with increased desire to just write. I want to bust out several thousand words today. Unfortunately, my hair is also a hot mess.
So rather than taking the hour and a half to wash my hair (hello. I have a lot of hair), I’m working.
I’d tell you that my hair is now wrapped up in a French twist, held together by dirt, hope and a woefully inadequate barrette, but I’m too busy. In fact, I’m so busy, I can’t even finish typing this sen