How I Spent My Day, And I’m Not Even Kidding

It’s been one of those perfectly do-nothing uninspiring days. Unexciting and uninteresting to the point where I contemplated skipping this post-a-day nonsense to see if the world might come to a screeching halt.  But I’m into month FIVE of never missing a day, and apparently the habit is fairly well ingrained.

This post may cause drowsiness.  So if you’re driving, please pull over.  If you’re an insomniac desperate for sleep, you’re welcome.

What I did on my day off (in chronological order):

1.  Slept late.  The furnace kept coming on and all that heat makes me lethargic.  Somnolent.  I love that word.

2.  Got up and made coffee and had a shower and started some laundry.  Crap, I forgot all about finishing the laundry.  Because….

3.  Because, I had to drive to a hair appointment.  Why is it that something as simple as getting my hair cut makes me nervous?  I fret about what to wear and what to talk about and what in the name of all that’s holy they’re going to do to me today.  Even though I explained to the girl who chopped all my hair off the last time that I don’t like it THAT SHORT and I don’t mind the waves, she chopped it all off that short again and smoothed it down straight as a poker.  I believe in giving people a second chance, but when they asked me if I wanted to book my next cut in six weeks with her “in case your stylist is all booked up”  I said no.  This is the second time I phoned one day and got in the next.  It could just be wishful thinking on their part that she will be booked solid for six weeks in advance.  I could be bald in six weeks.  I feel that way already.  If I’m ever going back there, I will call and take my chances on seeing the same girl.  She’s very sweet, but man, does she love those scissors.

4.  Before driving home and before unplastering my hair from my skull I took a picture of myself on my I-Phone to prove to my friend Laura that I’m not making any of this up. Sorry I’m not sharing it with you.  I always look so completely pissed off in pictures.  I’m SURE I don’t look like that in real life.

Kevin Bacon.

Kevin Bacon. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

5.  I made lunch, drank more coffee, played all my word games, discovered I’d received a lovely surprise comment on my blog from someone who shares some of my ancestors (and was actually willing to admit it).  What’s that six degrees of Kevin Bacon thing – proving it’s a small world?  Six degrees of separation.  Think about it.  Everyone in the world could be connected to me somehow.  Although why you would want to find out how is a total mindboggler.  Anyway just look at that face.  You could share ancestors with this man.  Or someone you know might be related to his hair stylist.  There are a lot of possibilities.  Some other day perhaps I’ll explore them all.

6.  I contemplated going for a walk, but it’s cold outside.  People are tossing about the S word.  I watched two movies on Netflix in my nice warm house instead.

7.  Made a salad, baked a potato in the microwave, put a frozen steak on the George Foreman Grill, poured a glass of red wine, and ate while reading more of “Odd Jobs” on my Kindle.  I know you should thaw steaks first, but that would involve planning ahead.  And I know you shouldn’t read while you eat, but nobody saw me.

8.  I had a nap.  That wasn’t pre-planned either.  All the stuff I’ve been doing all day must have been exhausting.  Or bored me into a comatose state.

9.  Then I realized I hadn’t yet done my blog-a-day-365-project-six-degree-crazy blogging from hell thing and so I got up off the couch and wandered off to sit down at the computer and here it is.  Such as it is.  I did warn you, if you remember.

10.  I’m going to finish the laundry now and watch another movie.  I’ve been kind of a waste of human space all day today, so why switch it up now?  I’ll get on with saving the world tomorrow.  I also have to do something with this hair.

Worst-Ever Haircut

Sheeesh. Who takes pictures of their worst hair cuts?

I have a bad habit of snipping away at my hair myself when it annoys me. Then several scissor-happy sessions later when I see an actual hairdresser and she tells me my cut is all uneven I just say oh, I know, that idiot who did my last trim was SO stupid…..

Surprisingly enough, I’m rather good at cutting other people’s hair. You know, as long as they’re not going anywhere special for at least two weeks.

All you have to do to get good at it is to practice a lot; on dolls, younger siblings and your own children. Then when your spouse asks you to give him a haircut you will know that you’ve either become extremely talented or he just doesn’t give a damn what he looks like anymore.

As long as he doesn’t end up resembling Donald Trump, I figure I’ve done a pretty good job.

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