Hurray for the out-of-bed look!

I've been saying for probably over a year now I needed to go to the hairdressers. I find going to the hairdressers such a waste. I'm not very good at sitting still for such a period of time, I hate the fact I can only put my glasses back on when it's all done and it's looking nothing like you wanted it to look, they always tell me I have no hair but feathers (if there's one thing I have issues with in life, it's my hair!) and it costs far too much money for those few scissor movements. I really don't like going. I hate it. In fact, there's nothing worse I can think of then sending myself to the hairdressers.

I had the scissors in hand myself yesterday and was about to cut a fair bit off when Stu literally put me on my bike and pushed me out of the door. I was still debating with myself whether I was really going to go - or perhaps go to the optician instead (I really have long distance issues these days) - but I gave in and made my way to the hairdresser I'm 'fairly' happy with and go to every 2 years or so. They immediately had time for me (bugger!) and jumped at the chance to release me of my dreadlocks hair. The result is OK-ish. It's short. It's rather spiky. And it's self- maintaining. No hair dryers, no brush, no putting it where it should be. Perhaps it's not that bad after all...