Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. It’s 7 a.m., and my alarm goes off. I don’t have class until 8, I can hit snooze a few times. All of the sudden it’s 7:40; time to go.

This has been my routine for the past three years. I would get up, put together an outfit, brush my teeth, brush my hair and be out the door. That was life.

And what a life it was, until I was diagnosed with ADD hair. So I wasn’t technically diagnosed, but my mom put a name to my random urges to constantly change my hairstyle. The cycle works in four stages: contentment, random desire for dramatic change, excitement and happiness, and regret and sadness.

It all started in kindergarten. I had long, beautiful blonde hair. I was happy with it until I started noticing my cousin’s curly hair. So I asked my mom for a perm. I enjoyed it, but then I began missing my long hair.

My desire for change came again in the eighth grade when my mom and I went a little bleach happy — my hair turned white. I then proceeded to go through every shade of blonde. The very next year I tried red.

How do you know if you have ADD hair? Some sure signs are that you find yourself changing your hair three to five times a day, and three months after you get a hair cut it’s time for a change.

My 2005 New Year’s resolution was to make it the whole year without cutting or coloring my hair. That’s not easy when ADD hair is as serious as mine. I made it until Jan. 6, 2006. It was the longest year my hair has ever seen.

After so long without change, you can imagine my intense desire for a dramatic change. I cut my shoulder-length hair up to my ears and got a perm. I achieved the Meg Ryan look, and I was very happy with it — until school started.

The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, right? I had straight hair and wanted curly. But do you realize how hard it is to get ready for class in five minutes if you have to wet your hair and scrunch it for 20 minutes?

Welcome to step four of the ADD cycle. I miss being able to pull my hair back in a ponytail. I miss being able to blow my hair dry and have it look like I spent hours straightening it. I miss being able to sleep that extra 40 minutes.

You would think after 19 years of dealing with ADD hair I would have learned my lesson and just shaved my head bald. But life is a game; you learn as you grow.

I’ve been on the other side of the fence; I’ve been on my side of the fence. Right now I’m straddling the fence — straightening my hair one day and scrunching it another. I’m tired of attempting to find green grass. What really matters is, when I have straight hair, I can sleep until 7:40. That’s really what green grass is all about.