In a long-ago conversation, Mr. RHS described a party at which the primary entertainment had been a box of wigs. The partygoers (mostly men) put on entirely new personalities with each wig they donned: blonde cutie-pie, sultry seducer, flaming rock star, etc. It was like having several times as many people in the room as were really there, he said, because everyone had brought a friend or two.
Today I'm wearing my blonde bubble-head wig, the one that tells everyone I'm a space cadet. After a restful weekend away at the annual T'ai Chi retreat, I find myself plunged back into the day-to-day routine while my mind is still elsewhere. My thoughts seem to have stalled under the shady trees of the retreat campus, or shooting baskets and trading stories with my friends, or wrangling with the less-than-handy handyman who came to call at Sensational Acres yesterday. Perhaps my brain got lost along the Path to Mastery (the theme of the retreat) and hasn't made it back to town yet, or maybe I'm just in feels-like-Monday mode.
Whatever the reason, color me blonde for the day, and don't assign me to operate any heavy equipment. By tomorrow, however, expect the return of the Editor with Serious Hair.