at some point on the bus on the way here this morning, i started giggling over the realization of exactly how horrified the junior high-age me (the one who could spend an hour trying to hairspray my way into compliance with acceptable early 90s curling-ironed coiffure, usually unsuccessfully) would be with my current morning routine.
ok, so i usually brush my hair before heading out the door. but when one is trying to recover from a decade of chronic tardiness and dealing with a bus that waits for no one, sometimes the cosmetic stuff slips. like today. if the watch hits 7 a.m., shoes go on, ready or not, here i come.
(i do keep a gym bag at work with all the necessary grooming stuff, and i can usually duck into the bathroom before anybody sees my just-rolled-out-of-bed look. but me, the 13-yr-old version, would still be completely mortified.)