I'm a coward. I freely admit it. I chickened out. Friday afternoon I pulled the box of hair color out of the closet and opened it. I studied all the things inside, comparing them with the list of what's supposed to be inside to make sure it's all there. I read all the directions, including the ones in Spanish. (I don't read Spanish.) I read how to do the skin test. You're supposed to mix a small amount of the color with the color activating solution and then smear it on the inside of your elbow--and not wash it for 48 hours. Right. Ewww. Plus, I was afraid I would mix too much and not have enough for the actual coloring event.
Then the directions told me to do the strand test. Snip a piece of hair from where you have to most gray and put it in the color solution to see how long you need to leave it in your hair. Makes sense except that most of my gray is at my temples and around my face at the hairline. I'm not snipping something from there.
The directions also said not to save the color solution in the bottle with the cap on because it could explode. THAT was reassuring! Visions of my head spontaneously combusting ...
But the real problem boiled down to this: if I messed it up somehow or had some sort of reaction, I wasn't sure I could get it fixed Saturday. Sunday is supposed to be the Lord's Day. It's not supposed to be about the new color (purple or otherwise) in the hair of the pastor's wife. Nor is it supposed to be about her (hopefully not) flaming tresses. Or her grotesquely swollen lips.
But I have determined that I AM doing this tonight. I cannot allow fear to rule my life. I have to embrace the adventure. I'm boldly going where I've never gone before! Plus, I'm about out of coloring conditioner. It's either use the box or go much more gray. That's a worse option than purple!