Yesterday, as I held the door open for a kid walking into the building for Girl Scouts, I swung my head around and wanged my brow bone right into the corner of a metal cabinet. It hurt a lot. Enough that I had to perform some serious inner gymnastics in order to seem nonchalant to Rolo while I signed her into the meeting. Then I got a massive easter egg knot right over the top of my (already lovely) scar from 32 stitches.
And that’s pretty much how this whole week feels like it is going.
I would show you a picture of it but then you would see my need for Botox up close. Nobody wants that. I was born with a forehead frown, I sleep with a forehead frown, and then I wisely chose teaching as my career so that I could carve deep lines into my forehead through daily practice. When I’m angry? Forehead frown. Laughing? Forehead frown. Confused? Worried? In deep thought? Staring at my computer or phone? Trying to figure out which student thinks farting is so funny today? You get the idea. I’m literally never not forehead frowning now. Even when I’m happy, the marks are still there.
And here is another fun way that my forehead can go. We’ll title this one the That Guy From Star Trek With The Forehead:
So yeah, this is just a rambling post to pass the time. Here’s to a better week without metal cabinet-meets-skull injuries.
*I’m not asking people to disagree with me or reassure me about my face. Just laugh with me at the state of my poor abused forehead. Not only does it contain the dreaded frown lines but also three distinct scars and a dent from bike accidents. It’s really seen some things in this life. Mostly asphalt.*