The Razor’s Edge

Have I mentioned that I took it upon myself to do away with almost a whole head of hair? Yeah. Chopped it off. Razored throughout. Who knows why I do these things? I’ve never gone this far before. When I turn 40 I’m going to have a mid-life crises and dye it blue/black. I suppose the hair doesn’t really matter. Yeah, it’s pretty effed up, all different lengths. But I think all it needs is the right attitude to carry it off. If I hold my head high, smile with confidence, as if I think my hair looks fabulous, maybe nobody else will notice. Maybe.

I am so frigging sleepy. Got just under 4 hours sleep last night. Moon dreams. Nightmares. Not the truly scary kind where I wake up screaming or crying or both, but the kind where I come to in a rush of breath and immediately realize I’m ok. Those ones aren’t too bad. Got caught up on some housework today. Lord knows it was needed! When I get behind, I get WAY behind. Feeling better now.

Just made a pot of coffee. I am giving myself four hours to complete a certain amount of work and then I can go to bed and watch one of the dvds Stace dropped off earlier. Tomorrow is Sunday! So I’m probably looking at a 7:30 morning, even though I’ve already seen all of this week’s Corrie. Oh well, give me lots of time to frig with my hair before the mighty rodd outing.

Mood: medicated
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: calm like a bomb, rage against the machine
Hair: razored, strawberry blonde

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