What a wacky morning…
Going into the details would only compel me to relive its idiocy and grinding boredom, so I won’t. We’ve all had these mornings. This one culminated in a search for a professional type envelope in which to send my invoice for the project, a search that resulted in the discovery of a photo album. Could I throw it out? I will, but I had to look through it, and in it I found photos that would mean something to somebody else. Damn. Responsibility… And the need for another envelope.
But I did find this photo. That was a wonderful day at Yellowtail Reservoir with my Aunt Jo, Uncle Hank, my mom and my ex. My shirt? My ex found it in a locker room where he worked, and brought it home for me. “San Diego School of Baseball” it said, and it was my favorite shirt for a long time. In the photo, I’m 34 or so. You see how gray my hair was already.
I believe this was the Montana visit that elicited, “I’m too young for a gray haired daughter!” that led to the decades long addiction to hair color products. Tough habit to break, but I did it.