lessons (no, not the buffy episode)
Oct. 20th, 2002 05:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mamajoanToday I have learned a valuable lesson, which can be summed up as: Why One Does Not Cut One's Own Hair.
I don't know what the hell I was thinking. Going to get my hair cut professionally was actually on my agenda for today. And yet, the lengths to which I will often go to avoid doing the stuff on my agenda are legendary; the things that can seem like The Thing To Do, in defiance of all logic, are mind-boggling. So there I was thinking about going out to get my hair cut, and so forth, and thinking "Maybe I should eat something before I go," on account of it being 3pm and me not having eaten yet (although granted I'd only been up two hours), so I took out some cheese to snack on, and ate one piece, and suddenly I found myself in the bathroom with the scissors in my hand.
And do I stop doing something once it becomes manifest that it's a bad idea? Silly you. Like you can't answer that question without my help.
So I went to get it professionally cut after all, although by that time it really amounted to "professionally damage-controlled." Ah well. "Didn't you try to cut your hair when you were a kid?" asked the nice chick at SuperCuts. No, I don't think so. "I think everyone does that at some point in their life," she said. "Heck, I do it myself sometimes, and it's not like I don't have friends who are hairdressers." She was very nice about the whole thing and did a great job of fixing the mess I had made. So, yay, I accomplished that goal for today, although with far more drama than was really necessary. Yeesh.
For the record, today's agenda:
Hang up clean clothes that have been sitting around forever
Get hair cut
Get milk
Get shortening for pumpkin bread
Bake pumpkin bread
Get molasses (actually yesterday)
Bake molasses cookies
Finish first run-through of "Grave" transcript
Finish "Grave" transcript
Watch "John Doe"
Finish evil SV/Buffy/Angel x-over story
Put up plate listing on eBay
Install Palm sync software on new computer
I guess that's pretty ambitious for a Sunday, especially knowing me. I'm actually impressed that I've done as many of the things on the list as I have. :P I suck.
I don't know what the hell I was thinking. Going to get my hair cut professionally was actually on my agenda for today. And yet, the lengths to which I will often go to avoid doing the stuff on my agenda are legendary; the things that can seem like The Thing To Do, in defiance of all logic, are mind-boggling. So there I was thinking about going out to get my hair cut, and so forth, and thinking "Maybe I should eat something before I go," on account of it being 3pm and me not having eaten yet (although granted I'd only been up two hours), so I took out some cheese to snack on, and ate one piece, and suddenly I found myself in the bathroom with the scissors in my hand.
And do I stop doing something once it becomes manifest that it's a bad idea? Silly you. Like you can't answer that question without my help.
So I went to get it professionally cut after all, although by that time it really amounted to "professionally damage-controlled." Ah well. "Didn't you try to cut your hair when you were a kid?" asked the nice chick at SuperCuts. No, I don't think so. "I think everyone does that at some point in their life," she said. "Heck, I do it myself sometimes, and it's not like I don't have friends who are hairdressers." She was very nice about the whole thing and did a great job of fixing the mess I had made. So, yay, I accomplished that goal for today, although with far more drama than was really necessary. Yeesh.
For the record, today's agenda:
Bake pumpkin bread
Bake molasses cookies
Finish "Grave" transcript
Watch "John Doe"
Finish evil SV/Buffy/Angel x-over story
Put up plate listing on eBay
Install Palm sync software on new computer
I guess that's pretty ambitious for a Sunday, especially knowing me. I'm actually impressed that I've done as many of the things on the list as I have. :P I suck.
