Every time something catastrophic/jarring/exciting happens in my life, it seems like I need to change something about myself physically. Usually, it’s my hair. I dye it some ridiculous color, chop it all off, etc. My best friend and I have decided that we BOTH do it when a situation crops up that we just can’t control.
I suppose we’re fairly lucky, though. At least it’s just our hair, and not an overwhelming need to drop fifty pounds in the span of a month, leading to unhealthy crash-diets, life explosions, and random collapses in public places, right? Still, it feels like something that helps us FEEL in control seems so… unreasonable. Like we’re grasping at something desperately, like sand slipping through our fingers, and suddenly decide that a drastic appearance change will TOTALLY help us get a handle on the situation.
Is that neurotic? I feel like that’s a little neurotic.
I’ve also decided that my lack of control of my living situation is another reason I torment and torture the sanity out of at least 60% of the characters I write about. That’s not okay, right? I might have to look into therapy, just to give myself peace of mind. Jeez.
ANYWAY–next post is about the handiness of curse words in writing… and also how ridiculously inappropriate they can be. Stay tuned for THAT train wreck. ~<3