Wednesday, February 26

Wig day. I came away from the appointment with a wig that matches my hair color and length almost perfectly. It's a little fuller than my usual style--more like The Rachel--and I wish I could use my flat iron on it. But I'm sure it'll settle. It makes me look, if not exactly like me, then me-esque. And I feel more put together than with the head wraps. I'll add it to my selection of head coverings. I wore it to work for the afternoon. 

Maybe I'll channel Moira Rose and do something unexpected for the next selection. 

Andrew had an exciting day too, embroiled in colonoscopy prep. He is drinking his toxic brew of Gatorade and Miralax from a giant beer stein he got in Germany during an Oktoberfest long ago.

This is a strange time. Hopefully our NYC getaway will take the bleakness out of adulting for a little while.