I'm about to go get a haircut. This involves being careful to never look in the mirror at myself, and pretending to look with the hand mirror at the back of my head. I do not want to contemplate myself in such a public fashion. As I have said before, my idea of hell on earth is to be stuck in a salon with people doing facials, manicures and the like. I do not enjoy public grooming. It's not that I hate my face, I don't, but comparing my face to the ones with mascara who are decades younger is not my idea of a treat.
So I will gird my loins and pay way to much to have a 1/4 inch trim, but it is necessary, as I have unruly, fast growing, tangly hair, and it needs trimming. When I leave I will feel like a pardoned prisoner looking up at the sky after a long sentence. It will feel sunnier, the sky bluer, the breeze gentle.
And after I go home and rewash and dry my hair, getting rid of the style and spray, I will feel my usual, messy self, only deliberate, not chaotic.
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