The Great Pretender

For the past two days,
I've been walking around
pretending that I don't have chemo on Fridays.

It was actually my friend, Claire who put the idea in my head.
"You know, your hair looks really good like that. People could never tell from looking at you, that you're undergoing chemo. I think you should leave it (your hair) that way."

Driving back to Columbia, I replayed Claire's words.
Could I?

I put the theory to the test when I dropped Christopher at fencing lessons later that evening.
"Hey! You got a haircut," Gabrielle remarked, "a real haircut!"
I responded, "Yeah, thought I would try something new."
And just like that, I'd pulled it off. (Pun intended)

Pretending again today,
I headed for a meeting on base.
By the end of the afternoon, I'd received a half-dozen comments, like:
"I love your hair"; "I used-to have that haircut"; and "I like that."
What a difference a three weeks make. (Going Commando, blogged 19 April).

All of this just proves:
Chemo is no match
for a confident woman,
wrapped in a bit of swagger,
rocking a SUPER cut.