50 Shades of Gray

50 shades of gray?  

I bet you looked a looked at the title and thought that I’d reference the badly written and salacious work of fiction that has captivated women worldwide. Well, you’re WRONG!

I’m talking about gray hair!

In early July, I had one lonely gray hair. This solitary hair had been my constant companion throughout high school, undergrad and my first couple of jobs. If I combed my hair, I looked for it.  Yeah, I knew I was getting older, but at least I wasn’t turning into the frumpy old gray-haired fat cat lady.

Then I started The Kennedy School.  They supplied me with real cream for my coffee, beer, wine, potato chips and less-than-flavorful food service pizza to the point that my pants became tight. Fast forward 69 days from orientation and there has been an explosion of gray hair growth around my hairline.  Let’s not even start on the dark circles around my eyes from staying up late writing papers.

I worked hard for my youthful appearance and it’s already on the decline…after only 69 days!!!!! WTF?

I am determined to not let this Harvard experience physically age me, so this means that I’m going to have to go on the offensive.  No more late nights writing papers (right after I finish the one that I have due tomorrow!)  If I notice any more ’50 shades of gray’ I’m going to call up my girlfriend Miss Clairol and put her to work, but most importantly no more food service pizza.

I’m serious.  If you see me with a slice of food service pizza, feel free to slap it out of my hand.  It’s not as if it tastes good anyway. 

Friends don’t let friends eat HKS pizza.