I love my bosses and coworkers. They are great people and we work well together. There is one slight issue that has reared it's head....it's with regard to my own head. It's not about what's in it or whether or not it is unremarkable. It's about what's on it, my hair. More specifically, it's about the color of my hair. Loyal readers, you all know my stance on dyeing my hair. It ain't gonna happen. Aside from putting in a pink splash in a move of solidarity for a friend with breast cancer, I am NOT going to dye my hair for the purpose of covering the grey. Now way, no how.
I have a particular coworker who is very stylish and always looks absolutely gorgeous. She is dismayed by my grey hair and urges me to dye it. She finds it utterly incomprehensible that I don't even own any make-up. The poor misguided soul has come up with the same plan other folks have floated, which is to get me drunk and then dye my hair when I can't put up a fuss about it. She does not realize how hopeless this is. She feels quite certain she can wear me down. It amuses me that my greys bother her so much.
The other day a male patient came in and the first words out of his mouth were, "I love that you don't dye your hair. It's gorgeous. Don't ever dye." Unsolicited compliments fortifying my position, gotta love 'em. I made sure my coworker was made aware. She countered that the man is clearly not a good judge of aesthetics. And so we go back and forth in the battle over my hair. I find it kind of hilarious.
This evening after getting home I put up this shot over on Facebook and added a skewed poll asking (and simultaneously stating the results would not affect my decision), "Should I wear the grey proudly or dye it so I can conform to narrow expectations of a society obsessed with youth?" Other coworkers began placing bets as to who will win this tete-a-tete. Silly people betting against me. Dey don't know me vewy well, do dey?