#stessful times

I found a Grey hair today.

Shorter than the rest of my hair, but luminescent against the backdrop of deep brown.

Safe to say, I was less than impressed.  I practically ripped it out by accident whilst foraging around to confirm whether I had imagined that glimpse of pure iridescent white.  Alas, I had not.

It’s a rather unremarkable feeling you get when you come face to face with your first Grey. The Grey.  The dreaded Grey.  It’s a moment of sheer and utter panic followed by a surreal, foreboding tranquility and acceptance, during which I wasn’t sure whether to cry until morning or resign myself to the fact that at the clearly ripe age of 24 I was already on the downward hill to pensioner-hood.

I’m not sure which part of the last year did it.  The obvious answer would be packing up my entire life and shipping myself and a suitcase to the Middle East but at no point during that did I feel stressed so I find that hard to believe…

Perhaps it’s the fact that I spent 3 hours on the phone to FedEx in Germany tonight, practically beside myself with frustration at a missing, and somewhat uber critical, package that had missed it’s deadline.

Fail.  

However, it allowed me double the number of steps I had taken in the whole of today, purely by pacing around my bedroom until… Well, until now (midnight).

Perhaps The Grey is in response to my rather wayward brain?  They say the mind is like a wild monkey, or an untrained puppy and I would testify to that.  Perhaps The Grey is just giving up on trying to keep up with the internal narration of me…