A wave of panic that curls into a tsunami

I was tired, I’ve been busy, it’s been dark in the mornings and I’m in my late forties! 

There, excuses out of the way, now I can reveal the details of one horrendous meeting.  At least, it was horrendous from my side of the table.  Wednesday, after school meeting  (so I’ve already gone through all day Monday, Tuesday and most of  Wednesday).  I was sitting in a meeting surrounded by my beautiful colleagues, all well-dressed and immaculately made-up even after 7 hours of teaching, and I turn up looking less than  – debonair?  Suave?  Presentable?  All those and more.  I sit down at the desk and listen attentively.  About an hour through the meeting I lean my chin on the heel of my hand (getting a little weary now) and ‘feel’ something.  I check my hand, wipe it on my trousers, check it again, shrug my shoulders and go back to my slouchy, elbow-on-the-table, chin-in-hand position.  I feel somthing again.  Nope, hand is still clean.  I finger my chin.  Aaaaaaaggghhh – there is a monstrous hair protruding from the otherwise smooth, unhirsute surface.  Now, you’re probably thinking ‘drama queen – over one hair?’.  Well, let me tell you that I have long, thick black black hair on my head.  The protrusion was not a fine-as-websilk hardly-there hair.  It was in your face, ‘hello, look at me, over here, yoo-hoo’, arrogant, permissive, practically prostituting itself to be noticed.  My hand did not move off that chin for the rest of the meeting.  At the close I lowered my face and scarpered!

3 days!  3 days I’d been walking around with that dark vine slowly oozing out of my skin.  It was low, under the jawline, and, as I’m short, probably went completely unnoticed by staff.  But the little munchkins – they saw!  They will be haunted forever by me and my monstrous single-stemmed lawn of a chin.  I have played right into the stereotypical image of the school librarian.  Short of screwing my hair into a bun, wearing glasses  and sensible shoes (Oh, wait – I did have my hair up in a bun and I had to wear my glasses because – double Aaaagghhhh). 

Please tell my husband I wasn’t trying to roast my head – I just wanted to sear off the growth and, if that didn’t work, I wanted to kill myself.  If, however, I survive intact you can bloody well bet your boots I’ll be looking for a laser.

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About Bea Turvey apprentice author and witch

I am a wild-haired author who cannot stop writing. The writing process is not a task for me. It is an extension of myself. When I write, I lose myself as easily as if I slipped into the story for a swim. Writing became a serious part of my life in Decmber of 2009. Unless you're reading this in 2017 it wasn't that long ago, and the bug hit me hard and fast. My first novel, Banished, was published in March 2010 and is available at http://www.amazon.co.uk/Banished-ebook/dp/B008PGM4TQ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1361913026&sr=8-1. If you read it, or anything else I've written, I hope you'll post a review and let me know why you liked it - or even why not!
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