So like a fool I went to the hairdresser. This would be the 7th since I moved here. Nobody listens.
I was there from 10:30 to 1 pm I am going back at 2:30.
Instead of cone head now I look like box head. She cut too much off the back and I said I wanted the colour a light blond not brassy. She says well how be I do highlights and colour. I said I do not want brassy blond. Just lighter than what I have now. Now it is dark brown with blond steaks and poker straight. I said to her I don't want fuzzy but I like a smooth curl. And wax what is the obsession with wax? "Blow dry it away from my face," I say. It is straight down. That I can fix. I hope.
She is going to give me blond. Today! I am in no mood for this shit. We have tickets for Bobby Curtola tonight and I am trying to get into an upbeat frame of mind for this evening.
It is not working.
Susan passed away at 6:30 this morning. How petty am I to complain about the hairdresser?
Life is so brief. I am operating on auto pilot.