posted Tue, 15 Mar 2005
I ran a new pair of hose before 8:00 a.m. yesterday.
I ran another pair at 2:30 today. Stupid, stupid screws underneath the conference table.
And then my hairdresser canceled on me.
At least when my hair looks bad, it’s not on purpose.
I am having a really, really bad hair week (see “Does she or doesn’t she?”) and there is no hope of it getting better any time soon.
Geri, my hairdresser, is sick.
Oh yeah, right. It’s spring break week. I know what’s going on here. She took those little wiener dogs of hers and went to the beach.
Did she think about me and my hair needs?
Even if she is really sick (ha! I doubt it!), what does that have to do with not coming to work? I need a haircut!
People are so selfish.
That’s the problem with business in the US today. They wonder why we’re outsourcing everything?
That’s right. Good, old-fashioned, I don’t care if I’m on my deathbed, by God I promised to cut your hair and I’m going to do it service.
But no. A little sniffle and she’s taking to her bed. (If that’s really what’s going on, but I doubt it.)
Meanwhile, my hair is too long. Last month, we disagreed on how much needed to come off. I wanted an inch, Geri wanted quarter of an inch. We compromised on half an inch. Now it is way too long. It looks icky. My hair doesn’t look good past a certain length. I would love to be able to wear it longer (if for no other reason than to avoid haircuts), but it is too fine to carry the weight of the length. Once it gets to my shoulders, it looks lank and limp.
It hit that point mid last week. I have been holding out for today, knowing that I had to endure only until 6:00 p.m.
That is, until Geri cancelled on me. With her lame excuse. Sick. I’ll bet.
How much suffering must I be expected to endure?