Whilst trimming my hair this morning, I managed to poke myself in the eye with my thumb (nail). It watered, feels scratched, and looks terrible, but I can still see and really, I'm just glad I didn't poke my eye with the scissors. I did what any rational person would do-I squinted, and finished the haircut. Given that I was working with one eye impaired, I still gave myself an even, reasonably professional looking cut (well, OK maybe the sort of professional that works at the ten dollar haircut place, but still). This does lead me to wonder, what the hell is wrong with me?
It is bad enough I can't bring myself to pay for a haircut more than once a decade, but the fact that I hack away at the hair falling in my face with a pair of office scissors has to be some sort of character flaw. I regularly have well-meaning people (sometimes strangers) trying to push the falling hair out of my eyes. It drapes down over my right eye, and after fiddling with it for a good five minutes, the woman at the DMV finally gave up, snapped my picture, and gave me a motherly warning about developing a sleepy eye. Thursday at the library, I had someone reach over, mid-conversation to brush my hair aside. I mean, Geez-if my bra was giving me side-boob, would people reach over and adjust that too? I finally gave up and started cutting this morning-that was when I gave myself the thumb. Know what? It still hangs over my eye. If I had any forehead to speak of, I'd just pull the damned hair back in a council facelift and be done with it. Instead, I'm left with a flop of hair falling over my eye.
I'm gonna cut it into super-short bangs like Maimie Eisenhower. That's what I'm going to do.
No comments:
Post a Comment