… on my hair stylist.
Excuse me while I pout. And please forgive me for writing about something so lame, girly, and frilly.
I have two days off in lieu of overtime, and desperately need to use one. I had my heart set on getting my hair cut, something I haven’t done since, oh MARCH. Or maybe it was April. My hair has gotten to the point where I don’t want to look in the mirror, and when I do I’m horribly disappointed. I was at the point of picturing the appointment, envisioning how good it would feel, anticipating the relaxing fun. I guess I should’ve called to book the appointment before booking the day off … but at any rate, I need that day off.
I have had so many bad cuts and negative experiences that I have to confess, I adore my sylist and hate the idea of going to anyone I don’t know. Heck, he’s even a ‘friend’ on FaceBook. He’s awesome, going to have a cut is relaxing and fun, always good discussions, and I’ve never once been disappointed.
The trouble is, I can’t get an appointment! I’m so frustrated! This was the problem last year too. I get a day off, and nope, no appointments. I have a sitter, nope, no appointments. I seriously need a week notice to get in. I don’t EVER get that. NEVER. Planning a week ahead is just too much for me, seriously. Two days I can manage. Sometimes. But even that is pushing it. I thought I was doing well planning for Friday on Wednesday.
Trying to look on the bright side, who knows, maybe this’ll be a good thing. You know, branch out. I know Liam has expressed that he really thinks the bob I’ve sported in several variations over the last four years is ‘my’ perfect style. But I’m bored, bored, bored with it – thrilled when it’s first cut, but then … sigh. Same old same old. So maybe I’ll try to find another place that makes me feel similarly comfortable and give it a try. It’s just hair. It’ll grow back. Right?