When you Mix up the Head and Shoulders With the Knees and Toes

 I woke up today, still buzzing from the concert last night, and read in bed for a bit. Then I got up and went to wash my face and dry shampoo my hair a little because I was planning to put away the rest of the Halloween decorations, go for a walk and do yoga before showering and washing my hair.

For the most part, I find that dry shampoo works really well to get my hair through day two and sometimes three. The only part where this doesn't work is my bangs. If I'm going to work or out somewhere where people are going to see me, I put the rest of my hair up and wash my bangs. If I'm just working out or doing chores, I put in a little extra dry shampoo and still can't look in the mirror.

I usually use the Lush dry shampoo, which is a powder. A few months ago, I bought a small can of Amika dry shampoo, which is a spray. I haven't found spray dry shampoo to be that effective in the past, but the Amika mousse I have is really good, and I saw it at Sephora so thought I would try it.

I once posted on Facebook that if you're near-sighted and have a lot of Lush products, you'll probably have to be comfortable with the fact that every now and then you'll end up dusting your armpits with dry shampoo. I then realized that both were basically cornstarch with essential oils, and started using the dry shampoo for both purposes instead of buying two products. So that mix-up didn't happen anymore.

HowEVER...

This morning I grabbed the little can of dry shampoo and sprayed my hair. Then washed my face and combed through my hair again, then looked my bangs and grabbed the little can again to do just my bangs.

I draped my bangs over the back of my hand, with my palm on my forehead. I pressed the nozzle and nothing happened. I pressed it harder. I thought 'weird, it shouldn't feel wet.'

I looked at the metal rack that sits on my bathroom counter and holds various cans and bottles of stuff and called myself a f***ing idiot. Because, again, near-sighted, but also, probably relies on grabbing a familiar-feeling container rather than paying visual attention to what I'm grabbing.

Did I mention that the last time Eve and I got pedicures, the lovely young woman doing mine, after having to spend twenty extra minutes trying to scrape fifty layers of dead skin off my feet while Eve's feet were already soaked, scrubbed, painted and drying, said gently "I've noticed that you have something called 'rough skin'", whereupon I thought uncharitably, 'oh, right, is that the technical term?' Well, it is, so I am the moron. She encouraged me to buy a product they sell called Footlogix mousse. Yes, they sold me mousse to put on my feet, as if I'm not in adequate danger of confusion already.

Does it come in a little can? One that matches the Amika one almost exactly, so that I put it in front of the other one and it hides it neatly? Why yes, it does.

I nearly chucked my original plan and just got in the shower then. But then I thought, I have been on this earth for 54 years and change. I will not let this deter me. 

So I combed the foot foam out of my hair and went on with my day.

But first, like any good civic-minded blogger, I took a picture for you.