This is indicated by my now obsessive desire to get my hair into an actual STYLE. As in "She did her hair".
The last time my hair was "did"? 1996, for my wedding. And I sure as hell didn't do it.
Tonights crash course in hairstyling include me trying to learn 40 years of hair styling information which has previously pinged off of my brain as "not my thing". I went and bought Hair spray today. And bobby pins. And some crazy combs and clip things to try to get my hair to do a pouf thing in the back through the magic of back combing.
4 tries later, I managed to get a bit of a pouf, but I am pretty sure I need to be more ruthless with the teasing and not so timid on the spraying.
In between, I am emailing my to-be roommates. And because I am giddy and excited and a little bit high on the amount of fumes I have inhaled through the spraying of my hair, I am being kind of silly. I did just disclose my habit of imprinting on people - as in "I have decided we are friends and now, you belong to me for life."
And that I am prepared at all times for the zombie apocalypse. Which involves making sure I have flats in my bag because 4 inch heels are super hot, but not the footwear needed in the aforementioned apocalyptic scenario.
Oh, and that because I only emerge from my cave every two to three years and speak to other humans, I tend to NOT SHUT UP. I take the dialog that goes on in my head 24/7 and simply broadcast it to whatever poor soul is in hearing distance.
And then there is my goal of speaking with at least 10 people I don't know. And who, after I blast them with my stream of consciousness chatter, may wish to not know me further.
However, I solemnly swear that I will get a photograph of the Hair once it attains appropriate pouf. And my shoes. Because these are some seriously hot shoes which will be making their debut. and maybe of me in the dress(es) - given that I find the right pair of Spanx.
I am excited.