Scrubby scrub scrub with shampoo that must not make my damp hair smelled like a wet dog rolled in a fruit salad.
Liberally smear with conditioner that must match the shampoo kind even though I use it way faster and am always at awkward unmatched quantities in bottles. A serious lament of my showering life.
Conditioner soaks into hair while I do exciting things like brush my teeth and almost fall asleep standing up.
Rinse. Try to the avoid the eyes. Am successful about 60% of the time.
Wring hair like professional washer woman in towel.
Wrap hair in towel until I feel like dealing with the rest of the keeping of the freshly washed hair.
Towel falls off of hair. Reapply every 3 minutes until decide I'll just go brush my hair out.
Look at crazy mess of wet hair in mirror. Decide I'm not ready to brush it yet.
Ignore hair for next half-to-three hours.
Decide I really must brush it now.
Brush hair with most coveted hair brush in the world. Also, only hair brush I haven't broken yet.
Contemplate how much of my soul I would have to sell to get a new hair brush exactly like my old one.
Mourn the trials and tribulations I've gone through in the past two years while looking for a new one exactly like the old one.
Pray that the part where a third of the bristles are now missing doesn't start affecting it's effectiveness any time soon.
Eventually get most of the tangles out of semi-damp hair.
Twist hair into a bun for sleepy sleep time.
Wonder, not for the first time, if I am the only one in the world who cannot sleep without their hair securely tied back.
Ignore knowledge that my hair is nearly always falling/already fallen out by the time I get up in the morning.
Ponder whether I'm bad-ass enough to pull off a vintage-style sleep cap. I'm good at being sexy like that.
Attempt to brush hair.
Discover nasty snarl.
Steal daughter's No More Tangles spray to remove snarl.
Pretend it's curling pretty just the way I like it while ignoring the perpetually frizzy ends and wild look that seems to be it's trademark curlability.
Attempt to pull back front part of hair.
Put approximately six dozen bobby pins in hair.
Curse the bobby pins and their lack of sufficiently holding my hair.
Swear I'll remember to get some more super grippy clips one of these days.
Ignore knowledge that my last one broke the better part of a year ago.
Place a few more bobby pins and I finally declare hair in a presentable state.
Put elastic hair band on wrist for sloppily pulling hair out of my face when it gets annoying in an hour. Also, for eating.
Hair falls out of bobby pins before I finish driving to work.
Glance at the more wild than ever state it is in, and decide I'm going for that au-natural look today.
Look at people with pretty neat big bouncy curls. Wish somebody could teach me and my hair to do that.
Give up completely and put hair in sloppy ponytail for second half of work shift.
Decide my hair needs professional help.
Go to salon and put in purple highlights. Purple highlights make everything better.
Surprisingly hair remains as wild as ever. But now with more purple. Or fuchsia, depending on who is speaking and their color spectrum judgment. But I like thinking it's purple.
Continue to ponder whether it is my hair itself or if I'm just lacking some serious grooming skills/products.
Hope my blog readers will comment with full hair-taming tutorials. Or at least with what sort of put-in-hair product might be helpful to make it go from the trademark wild-and-crazy look to something not wild and crazy at least some of the time.
Decide that if that is unsuccessful I will turn the whole thing purple. Nothing makes wild hair better like making it purple.