Lament of the white roots…

Waking up to the beating rhythm of a pounding headache, stumbling into the bathroom and staring at myself in the mirror… the shocking whiteness of my roots are flashing back at me in their luminous brightness. I feel every hour of my 37 years.

(Sorry, if you thought that this will be about something profound then I will have to disappoint you. Trust me… in this moment I would not be able to debate anything in a cultural or social context in an intelligent matter.)

Bright white roots reminding me that I am no spring chicken anymore. Combined with a sore stiff shoulder due to a badly executed dive-roll (yes I know, my own fault) and dark heavy bags under my eyes and a lingering migraine … I cannot even blame some mad party from last night.

Alright… que the sad violins…

Lament over.

So now I am sitting here trying to look at this from the other side. Migraine medication kicking in is also helping…

I got my first white hair when I was 20 (damn those genes!). I am however supporting the local economy by spending a substantial amount of money at the hairdresser.

Those same genes have also given me a somewhat “looking a bit younger than I am” ( just not today… though considering the rest of the family I might be somewhat reassured for the future).

The humongous bags under my eyes and headache are more likely from work stress and spending too much time last night playing the Xbox. The work situation is shortly to change for the better and gaming… well it is kinda fun.

My healthier living (… not perfected yet) and work-outs and therefore weight-loss is going OK, albeit very slowly. I do enjoy it and you will find me in the gym first thing tomorrow again. The fact is that I am getting to a point where I am fitter than I have been for many years and I never thought I would say that at 37.

I am also the luckiest person alive because I have some of the most amazing people as friends.

So all in all… life is pretty good.

Now excuse me, I have to book that hairdresser appointment.