a new day has come

It’s a new morning and significantly, the day after what shall now be called ‘the wielding of the scissors’. I still cannot pretend the event did not happen (unfortunately).

After consoling myself over the mess which now sits atop my fat head with a few drinks last night, I have finally come to the resolution that there is nothing more that I can do.

(Yes, it took me awhile to come to this conclusion, but I never denied I was slow)

I don’t think I’m the only one who does not like my haircut though. It’s only been a mere 24hours before my straggly locks were given the scissors treatment (what I should deem, ‘The Hacking’ (sounding like a M. Night Shyamalan movie title, hmm? And yes, possibly an exaggeration on my part), but I think I’ll need more time for this to sink in.

Moreover, I wonder what to make of the fact that waking up this morning, it appears that my left eye has taken this hair-cutting experience deeply. It is all puffy, swollen and disgusting and I can only deduce that some small part of me (even if it is only my left eye), is trying to protect myself.

My left eye is trying to either a) close itself up so I can only half-see what my hair looks like, b) is trying to make itself look worse in an attempt to take away the attention my haircut will receive or (and the smallest chance here, significantly less believable than the former possible answers), c) looks as it does only merely due to the fact that I got face scrub in that eye and it hurt.

I feel somewhat like Eddie McGuire here, although guessing the right answer will not win you a million dollars (you’ve not even reached the safety level, though I guess you cannot really have a safety level in a one-question quiz).

The obvious answers are really a toss-up between A and B though, right?

I guess I had said before that I wanted to do something drastic, like chopping all my hair off and feeling rather liberated! But then, I know I would feel great for the first few hours, and then spend every one after bawling my eyes out.

I know it is stupid to be entirely hung up on my hair, but washing it this morning I failed to adjust the shampoo/conditioner ratio and pretended to wash hair I no longer had. Sad. It was like those people who lose limbs and can feel it’s ghostly presence still there. (Clearly my hair is kinda somewhat possibly vaguely along the same lines?)

Maybe I should take solace in the fact that my mother said she liked my haircut. Though actually, maybe I should take that as a warning sign!

..and now to attempt to find a hat AND an eye-patch before I venture into the city later today. Fantastic!


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February 2011
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