I walk through the door slightly sweaty and out of breath. They are all wearing black. They are all made up. They stare at my “Life is Good” cotton shirt, my Target cargo pants and funky checkered hat. I am not wearing make-up. I cut my own bangs. I am definitely not a salonite.
The girl takes me in the back, through the curtains to the darkened area with mood lighting and calming music. I lie on a padded table and close my eyes. She wafts lavender essential oil past my nostrils and massages my head. My body is heavy. My back is warm. I sink into the table. I am relaxed. She smoothes warm wax on my brows, gently presses a cloth strip against my orbit and rips the hair from its follicular nest. I burn. She has hurt me. She knows and presses a cool finger on my searing skin. The pain is dulled. She repeats again and again. It’s cathartic. I relax even more. She hands me a mirror. My brows are beautifully shaped.
I leave the salon with a bounce in my step and walk back to the park to meet up with the baby, her friend and my neighbor who graciously agreed to watch them while my brows were done.
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I have time to spare before retrieving middle daughter from ballet. The babe and I stop by the brewery to visit papa. His co-worker looks at me quizzically and says, “I didn’t realize you were so short. You look more impressive in your doctor clothes.”
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The kids are loud. I’ve been hauling them around all day. I need a break. I leave the boy in charge and run to the market. I buy two chicken strips, three corn dogs, two bags of cheese puffs, two loaves of high fiber bread and a bottle of wine. The checker cards me. It turns out we are the same age.
I debate switching careers. I want to be Johnny Depp in 21 Jump Street. Then I remember - I can not text. I may not look it but I am too old. Besides, the neighbor girl would rat me out.
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I arrive home and eat half a bag of cheese puffs - low fat of course. I drink a glass of wine. A delicious combination which I highly recommend. I’ve also eaten a cup of soup, a green salad, a cereal bar, a mocha, a tea, two small yogurts and a Tofutti Rich Rewards Bar: not all at one sitting.
I did walk three miles today. I wonder if I could run that distance. And swim 5/8 of a mile and bike for 12.5. Then I could eat whatever I wanted.
I passed my echocardiographic stress test. There’s a sprint triathlon in July. It’s on a weekend when I’m not working. I’ve seen a lot of signs. Lots and lots of signs.
