The last time I had my hair done was right before Maddy was born.
Getting my hair done is one of my guilty pleasures. Every time I pay the rediculous bill, I convince myself it's part of my "professional appearance; no one wants a nurse who looks disheveled. If she can't take care of herself, how can she take care of you?"
I don't get my nails done.
I don't buy clothes or jewelry.
I don't buy new purses or shoes.
This is it, people.
Deoderant and hair.
Besides, I wanted to look "put together" for the pics right after Maddy came into the world. Like having a baby is no big deal.
I ended up looking like a raccoon who had been run over twice with a mutilated rat atop its head.
Pretty much my every day look.
Anyways, today I made a hair appointment. I LOVE getting my hair done and yes...she is 11 weeks old which means it's probably been 12+ weeks since I've had my hair done. Scandalous.
This was my first experience scheduling something with a kid...to which she could not attend. And it was weird. I couldn't do ANY of my hairdresser's times! (Jason will be working, Becky will be in class, I will be getting ready for night shift).
I almost told the receptionist to "forget it" and hung up the phone. Then I caught a glimpse of my 6 inch roots and decided I wanted to at least look professional for my patients with "up-kept hair." So I decided to sacrifice my sleep after work next week and go (what sleep anyways? I probably wont even notice my fatigue). And I thought "I will have to find a baby sitter." Weirdest thought EVER.
And for the record: this appointnment is AFTER I begin work again. My patients are going to be scared of the leaking, crabby nurse with horrible roots. Who hasn't inserted an IV or catheter or removed staples or a PICC line, done chest compressions, or packed a wound in 3 months.
Too bad reviews are next month. I'm sure I'll get a great raise.
Did I mention I am behind going to the dentist also?
Off to watch my kid almost roll over. Sniff.