You Better Look the Hell Out
I didn't used to believe in Mercury retrograde having any effect on my life. Until a retrograde day in 2000. In one day, I:
- Got the "I Love You" virus (Anybody remember that day? It was a bad day)
- Spilled a cup of coffee all over some "storyboards"
- Sat in a chocolate bar (while wearing a beige suit, of course)
- Went to the hair dresser who convinced me to get a "body wave" and THEN?
- Literally poked me in the eye, dislodging my contact lens, which then flew (my contact lens, not my eye) into a pile of hair on the floor. Although that would give the phrase "hairy eyeball" new meaning.
And then the very next (also Mercury retrograde) day I:
- Cried and contemplated calling in sick to work (because of disastrous body wave), and
- Wore two different shoes to work. Not on purpose. One black, one blue. The irony here? I didn't even notice until about, oh, 10:00 a.m. when I thought I was developing a slight limp and started wondering if I was finally inheriting my genetic legacy - osteoporosis, at age 29, and looked down and lo and behold, one shoe with a one inch heel, and one shoe with a three inch heel. And I was NOT drunk. I swear. It was just that kind of work environment, and I was just that crazy-distracted-busy. (Duh.)
So, I now know that Mercury is associated with all kinds of "communications" havoc. You're supposed to back up your files, watch out for personal misunderstandings, expect e-mails and faxes to mysteriously never arrive, etc., (Hell, look what happened to poor Amalah.)
But I've decided that Mercury retrograde just means all general hell breaks loose. And do you know how I know that? This weekend, I ran out of my expensive, please keep me fake blonde shampoo and was traumatized because my salon had already closed for the weekend and my husband suggested I use "Pert." And this irritated me greatly. Although I do not know why. Maybe because we don't have any Pert in the house and do they even make that shit anymore? And, even more indicative of Mercury-retrograde shenanigans, I have to teach tomorrow AND give a presentation in my qualitative class and seriously? I have a "blemish" (I'll be ladylike for one second) that looks like a fucking tumor. There is no covering this baby up. It is protruding from my chin, and boy, oh, boy, small children could take shade under it. I'm 35 years old. If that's not a bad cosmic joke gone wrong, I don't know what is.