The hits just keep comin folks, get yur popcorn and soda pop and hunker in for a doozie of a show!!!
That's all I've got in me right now, but lets just say that I got my haircut Sunday, it's decidedly exactly what I asked her not to do, and I've found out that I can go back and ask for her next Sunday on her next shift and get it done the way I want for free. When I got here the week before Thanksgiving, it was darn near to my ass, the cut I really liked had it just past the shoulder, and I asked this chick to take it up 3 inches from there. The point is, this time next week, I won't be wearing my childhood security blanket down my back anymore; I'm changing, and it hurts, and people are noticing, and some are really verbal about how much they don't like me, and when it's on top of about every random thing coming from the easy daily contacts, it's just enough to get you to spastically clean.
That's right, I didn't reach for the bourbon or the beer and I didn't go out for brownies, I found enough carpet to vacuum, hung a picture, did laundry, and the shower is soaking in some goo I have to scrub off soon.
And ya know what?? I don't feel any better, but, I don't feel any worse, and maybe I'll stop sneezing when I come home, so there is today's silver lining.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm done with this game today, too many stray balls I didn't see coming have me more exhausted than the pop flies and fouls I actually got to swing at, so I'm going to take a long hot shower, use the yummy body butter before curling up in some fresh PJs with a cup of hot tea, and let this day ooze off of me before I attempt a good night's sleep. If you want to play with me, work this quizzical dilemma over a bit: if one decides to be single, to spend time alone to decide what they want/like/need from life/love/work/home but they find ways to constantly put themselves in situations that require dating skills (like, say, moving across the country and being nice to everyone they meet because, say, everyone has "gotta guy" who might put sugar in your gas tank for not saying Excuse Me when passing in the grocery isle or whatever), and those in the know often toss out "you should be in the service industry, you are great with people!" and "why aren't you in sales, you are a natural!" and "your job should be helping people somehow, someway, because you just brighten my day so effortlessly, you could be a life changer for those in need just by being you!!"... if all the attention is there, just from severely inappropriate sources, and one thrives on it as if it were oxygen itself... should one find a woman's campus to hibernate in until the wounds heal over and the spine grows in, or stop with the pussy footing around and get on some dating sites and plan on never having dinner alone again? Just a little 'what if' to work over amongst yourselves, I'll check in after I decide if sleeping pills should make it onto the shopping list.