I really don’t need a haircut
I know that just a few days ago I was lamenting about how badly I needed a haircut, but when my regular stylist was unavailable for so long, I finally caved and went to the little haircut place in the mall during my lunch break and got a haircut. These places are great because you can tell them how you want your hair to be cut, and then they just go ahead and give you the haircut that they feel like giving you, and it ends up being a surprise because they turn the chair around so that you can’t see what you’re getting.
So my stylist ended up cutting my hair shorter and shorter in what I assume was a minor fit of desperation as she tried to even out the cut. See, although it’s not obvious when my head-pelt is at its luxurious thickest, it turns out that my overly large head has a lumpy, irregular shape, sort of like a lopsided potato. The tiny Cambodian woman who cut my hair didn’t realize this until after she’d mowed down some of my hair and saw that it was still sticking up in places. I suppose I might have brought this up to her before she started, but I’m still looking for a way to casually inject a warning about my asymmetrical cranium into conversation.
Last night I feasted on Thai food and on some world class cookies from my friend Sibyl!; then I came home and (once again) fell fast asleep in an uncomfortable position sprawled out on top of my blankets. I realized a little before 4 AM that my lights were on and I was still mostly clothed, so I finally ‘got ready for bed.’ I’m still up. It’s almost six.
Oh well. The weekend starts now!
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