Brian and I have both shared a similar “Where am I?” moment the past couple of weeks.
(Brian during a confusing time when he worked at a lube shop for a few weeks in Feb. and had a work alias--"Carl." Looove him for not being to proud to work ANY job while there are no jobs in construction!)
I can’t speak for Brian, but my moment happened while I was working at the salon. I had a client sitting in my chair, and after a quick consultation, I went clicking away on ankle booties to mix color. I did the usual… glanced through my color inventory, mixed up a (hopefully genius) color concoction, took a swig of Cherry Coke, and went clicking back in. I was just a few foils into a masterpiece when it hit me. “HOW THE (HECK) DID I GET HERE??” Wait… wait. I’m 25? And I’ve been married for two years? I do hair? But I went to school. We’re still paying off school. And when did my hips get so wide? How did this happen? HOW DID I GET HERE?!
I was still sloshing color around in the bowl and pondering this after my client was processing. I was still thinking and almost laughing about how random events and chance decisions lead me to this exact moment. And…it all happened so quickly! Not in any negative way, I mean, I love my life. I LOVE my job and my husband. But… living in Las Vegas and working in a salon was never something I had envisioned even a few years ago, although Ashton the Hairstylist beats the pants off Mrs. Scurr the English teacher in the fun department.
How. Am. I. Here?
Have you done that? I hope this is a common moment of disorientation for 20-somethings.
I figure this will happen again when I have three crying kids, a flat tire on my mini-van and mascara on only one eye. Or when I realized I’ve turned into my mom, whichever comes first.