I have done it again. I have committed to do something and then at the first bump in the road, I’m off track.
You know what it feels like. We all do it at some point about something. You hate yourself afterward. Argh!
Because this is a humorous blog and I am incredibly shallow and consumed with nonsense, I will share my failure with you. No judging please!
About a month ago, I decided to grow my hair out. Not a lot, just a fuller collar-touching length.
Hair length is an extremely volatile subject in my house. My hair is never the right length. When it’s long, I want it shorter. When it’s shorter, I want it longer. The beloved husband knows not to comment on it at all.
I can never wear my hair real short. No Miley Cyrus here! I have a head full of the most bizarre cowlicks. They twirl every which way. Short hair means I have to wash and aggressively style with goo every morning.
I’m retired and I also retired from intense daily hair grooming. It looks presentable but I’m not as neurotic as I once was.
Two days ago, my hair had reached that point. You know that point — where you can’t stand it anymore. You hit the brick wall!
It was hitting the collar top and swerving outward in an unattractive fashion. I figured if I trimmed just the bottom layer, the top would fall over it with more weight and hang down instead of at a stupid 90 degree angle.
We started with that but once that scissor was in my hand, all hell broke loose. My bangs were a tad long. As it turns out, you can’t cut just a tad. You look like the kid whose mother cut her bangs at the hair line. Remember that look?
Then with my bangs shorter, the sides were out of whack. There was no whacking them back in, I tried and tried. Each “tad” only made them shorter and more prone to sticking out over the tops of my ears. (What happened to my ears? When did they get so big! I had nice little ones once upon a time!)
At the end of this frenzy, I am back at square one with a slightly off-kilter haircut. I am due for a “real” haircut in a few weeks. My stylist will smile (she’s been to this rodeo before) and fix it. Then we will have a discussion on letting my hair grow….again.
I think I have identified the problem. This is how I see myself in my head.
Perhaps I need a hair stylist who offers reality therapy.
The good news is that my hair grows fast especially in warm weather. Within a week or two this shearing will be forgotten.