Kookie, lend me your comb

i woke up with a start. there was a large truck or something driving past, honking wildly at what i could only imagine was an old lady that had fallen in the road, or perhaps a plastic bag fluttering by the windshield. plastic bags have caused several devastating accidents in recent times, you know.

i stumbled out of bed and headed absently towards the shower as weekday mornings lead me to do. "it is a weekday morning isn't it?" i thought to myself as i passed by a mirror that was hanging on the wall. stopping for a brief glance, i pondered as to wether i had seen this mirror before, and had it seen me? what an odd position for a mirror - the wall of a bathroom. then something caught my eye. a sight which had never truly caught my eye before. a glorious vision seen only by people in starving countries envisioning the vision of the virgin mary in their flatbreads or jesus in their water glasses.

my hair was perfect.

it was almost as if someone broke into my house with some movie-quality salon equipment. perfectly shaped, almost molded. it was a hair-do of which elvis would have even been jealous. "fate is on my side today," was the thought rushing into my mind. "is there some sort of way i can get out of my pyjamas and get dressed without disturbing this act of god?"

i woke up with a start. there was a large truck or something driving past, honking wildly at what i could only imagine was an old lady that had fallen in the road, or perhaps a plastic bag fluttering by the windshield. plastic bags have caused several devastating accidents in recent times, you know. I looked into the mirror and thought to myself, "my hair's a complete mess!"

it was all a dream.