I got my hair cut at some point in August or September 2020 – I have no notation for the appointment in my diary (a phantom visit?). A short, curved bob. Bo-ring. From that haircut until my next one, almost a year later, I cut my hair myself twice. It sufficed. Sort of.
I was fully vaccinated by late May 2021. So, mid-June I ventured out so someone else could deal with my hair and for uncertain reasons (ie, I didn’t have a eureka moment) I had her cut it shorter. That was ok. Then, a month later I was back there to get it shorter. Last week, yet another month had passed and I was yet again at the hairdresser. This time struck right. Short – like it hasn’t been for decades. I still can’t explain how I got here, but both friends and the hairdresser said, “it suits you”. So, I guess it was meant to be.
I wore Masque Milano Madeleine – as noted a week ago, this is sweet – because no matter what I intend to put on right now I end up wearing this. That sweet, comforting milky, cereal-y, nutty vibe is just, strangely, where I am right now. I’m weary. I sigh a lot. I resent the guy I work for even though he isn’t doing anything different. I’m bored with my cooking. I take the same solo walk around the village. You get the picture.
One tyre on the car has needed seeing to twice in the past week (it in theory is now ok – we shall see).
The dog is grumpy – he whines in the morning after breakfast for us to pay attention to him and if we don’t he savages his plush toys, keening as he does it. I wonder if his teeth are bothering him or if he too is simply weary.
I still can’t fully extend myself in yoga (mucked up my lower back three months ago). I am getting there, but my yoga teacher said sometimes these things take a long while and maybe signal your body is trying to give something up, move on to something else. What that is right now I don’t know.
I have a medical appointment at the end of this week regarding which I’m spoiling for a fight. That’s just where I am. I feel like we’re yet again going to go over old ground. Please tell me this time the medics will go, “Eureka, that underlying cause you’ve been banging on about for years – it is indeed the issue. We were so blind (of course you bloody were, twits)”.
So, you get my drift.
Anyway, my short hair pleases me and I’m thinking I’ll just have to go with my affinity for Madeleine and maybe get a bottle after all.
How about you? Where are things at the moment?