I have good hair.
It's strong. Shiny. Black. OK, so I have a handful of white hair, but what do you expect at 48?
I have tried to compartmentalize my thoughts, since my recent health news. There's hardly anything more boring than someone going on and on about their health problems. I promise I won't. But I can't help but let potential scenarios float into my consciousness.
If, and I emphasize if, I end up having to go through treatments, I will inevitably lose my hair. And that is how I came to realize how vain I am about my hair. "Charm is deceptive and beauty fleeting," God tells us in Proverbs. If I haven't been exactly vain in the classic sense, swinging my hair about like a Breck girl, I certainly have grown attached to my hair and don't want to have to sport a Mr. Clean look! Isn't there a saying that you don't know what you've got til it's gone? (Sing it, Joni!)
I figure, it's always good to rid oneself of vices. So I shall contemplate my newly discovered vanity and try to grow from it.
What's your secret vice?