I woke-up early in a good mood. After sitting in bed a few minutes I decided I really wasn’t ready to get up. I laid back down and slept another hour. This time I had to get up and was ready also.
I took my shot and my medications then drank my first cup of coffee. I turned on a movie that I had seen last night on the news. It was called, Abducted Twice in Daylight; I think. It was about this small town where everyone knew and were good friends.
A neighbor and his family had moved in next door. The two families became close friends, sharing their lives together like most neighbors do. What happened from there, didn’t really shock me but I was more into what is going on in the minds of sick people. It was a movie I watched to the end.
I don’t know if I have ever been that trusting in my entire life to have made some of the decisions these parents of the kidnapped girl did. Maybe I have a more suspicious mind. It seems to me that in this movie, things would have got nipped in the bud long before people’s lives got hurt. You will have to check this movie out and let me know what you think.
The next thing I did was get dressed and put on some make-up. I have been applying make-up to cover some of the age spots I have. I have always had a fear of dying and getting old. Don’t ask me why. I already know I am going to heaven and I realize I can’t stop the process.
I went into the bathroom and tried to do something with my hair. I actually hate my hair cut I got a few months back. It didn’t turn out like I wanted at all. I may have already mentioned this in a prior post, but after the hair cut cutting began; I learned the stylist was new. A nightmare is what I call it. It can only grow out in my opinion.
I used a mirror to see the back of my hair in the bigger mirror. I almost fell over and I felt my jaw drop big. What I saw was this hugs area of small thinning, maybe bald spots. Oh my gosh. I am getting old.
Instantly, any good thoughts about how I looked at myself were gone. I wanted to change my clothes back to bed clothes and hide under my covers. My opinion of myself as being outgoing and not too bad looking for almost being 65, and the thoughts that there are others heavier than me, came tumbling down like and eruption of boulders falling to the road.
I did the best that I could. I decided then and there I would not color my hair a darker shade anymore. I would let it go back to its natural blonde. This way the baldness wouldn’t be so bold.
I put everything away, and got me a cup of coffee. Here I set at the computer talking to you and yet my heart is still sinking and my self-worth is almost shot. I always wanted to be accepted, a thing from my childhood. I always wanted people to know that I was a compassionate, caring and empathetic woman. Why in the world do I want to hide myself now over bald spots?