I have heard about people who, when stressed, clean like their life depends on it. I am not one of those. When I feel out of control of my life, I do something drastic to my hair. When I was pregnant with Henry I took hormonal mood shifts out on my hair and grew it long. Then he was born and I had marvelous Erin cut it all off (which was the plan all along).
I'm don't write much about work here, and I'm not about to start (hi boss, in case you've found me here), but things in professional Sinkiland are rocky right now.
So, I invited Erin and her cutie one year old Brody over. She gave me a perm:
Do you like it?
I'm kidding, that's a wig.
Stay tuned for the official unveiling on Friday after I have washed the permed real hair.