Things I'm annoyed about
First, my hair. When it was long, it cooperated. I only had to wash it every five days or so, and brush it a few times a day (never an issue). Now that it's short, I can't do anything with it. Apparently the length was able to absorb a lot of oil, because now I'm having to wash it every two days; three is pushing it. The little bits like to go all over the place, so I have to comb it constantly. I'm hoping that it will become more manageable when it grows out a bit, and that my oil glands will wake up and realize that they can drop to, say, 50% of current production levels. What I want to do, though, is put it up in curlers overnight and see what happens when I take them out. Of course, anything will look better than the perm I got in 5th grade. That was just...[shudder]...wrong.
Second, teeth. Stupid advertisements on ever website advertising one housewife's secret tooth-whitening formula made from ordinary household items. If only it was the same as Vyvyan's hangover cure (from The Young Ones): paint stripper and bleach. Lethal. Then people would start dying, they would take down the ads, and I wouldn't have to stare at huge close-ups of teeth all day long.
Third, trigger points. There is this band of pain running from my shoulder blade up to my occiput. It hurts to look up, down, side to side. I'm working to treat it myself, but there's only so much I can do, and very little of it that I can do here at work. A friend recommended a massage parlor to me, which I'm going to try and hopefully soon, as the MT at my chiropractor's office is seriously not good. While in school, there were the people who had good technique and energy, okay technique and neutral energy, and bad technique and energy. This woman has okay energy and bad technique, and really no intuition. She's tense when she massages, so naturally I'm still tense when it's all over. Plus, she only knows two strokes. It's either big with the flat of her hand, or tiny and deep with her thumb.
Fourth, hunger. So I'm off to eat lunch.
Second, teeth. Stupid advertisements on ever website advertising one housewife's secret tooth-whitening formula made from ordinary household items. If only it was the same as Vyvyan's hangover cure (from The Young Ones): paint stripper and bleach. Lethal. Then people would start dying, they would take down the ads, and I wouldn't have to stare at huge close-ups of teeth all day long.
Third, trigger points. There is this band of pain running from my shoulder blade up to my occiput. It hurts to look up, down, side to side. I'm working to treat it myself, but there's only so much I can do, and very little of it that I can do here at work. A friend recommended a massage parlor to me, which I'm going to try and hopefully soon, as the MT at my chiropractor's office is seriously not good. While in school, there were the people who had good technique and energy, okay technique and neutral energy, and bad technique and energy. This woman has okay energy and bad technique, and really no intuition. She's tense when she massages, so naturally I'm still tense when it's all over. Plus, she only knows two strokes. It's either big with the flat of her hand, or tiny and deep with her thumb.
Fourth, hunger. So I'm off to eat lunch.