Remember how I was growing out my hair (letting it go grey) because I was sick of dyeing it, and the girl at the salon said it would take a year to accomplish, “use purple shampoo,” blah blah blah?
After the past month that I’ve had, I decided that while my body feels like it’s 56-going-on-ONE HUNDRED, I don’t need to look old as well.
So, in between the doctor appointments and “attacks,” I tootled in to the hairdresser’s, plopped down in her chair, and said, “Dye it. ASAP.”
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