I have had a bad hair day for two weeks.
It isn't pretty.
It is half-curly, half-straight. Mostly fuzzy, non-cooperative. It has a life of its own.
It is like it is saying to me: "Ha ha, Sarah! We've got you now! What can you do about it? You are stuck in a world where your electrical plugs will not work. You are a prisoner and we will be victorious!"
Or something like that.
This pretty much says it all:
Are you scared? I would be.