Vanity, thy name is NOT KathyLikesPink

One offshoot of all this construction going on at home is that all the mirrors are down. Down and gone. We didn't have a lot of mirrors to begin with, and now those that we did have are gone. Where? I'm not sure. Will they show up again? I don't know that either. Perhaps they ended up in the dumpster. I just don't know.

The only mirror I can find is a small one with a magnet, meant to go in Darling Daughter's locker but attached to the side of the 'fridge.

I have to leave the house and go out in public each day. I'm not a vain woman, but I do wish to avoid looking foolish if at all possible. Apparently it's not possible.

When looking in this tiny mirror, I see an eye, an eyebrow, a small (very small) patch of hair. I shift my head right, then left, then take the plunge and hit it with hairspray.

I arrive at work and get right to it. At Job # 1, I am "balls to the walls" busy, if you will pardon the expression. It's generally a couple of hours before I head to the ladies room. And then ... yikes!

I look in the mirror - a big, normal mirror - and realize I'm sporting an Alfalfa 'do:

Or a Rod Stewart younger-days just-got-out-of-bed tousle...

Or a Groucho part and wave...

Or worse yet - the MOE....

Thankfully, I work in a church. They're very forgiving about many things. Goofy hair doesn't faze them in the least.

Or maybe they just think of me a comedy relief.