I am getting my hair cut (and probably colored) this weekend. No clue how I want it to look but I am so freaking excited I could pee myself (not really).
For the last fifteen years I have done nothing to this mop aside from growing and hacking it off in order to donate to varying wigs for kids cancer organizations; fucking Mother Theresa. I set a goal of 4 donations (at the time I started that was how many donations it took to make an actual full wig) but ended up donating 5 times, not because I am in line for sainthood but because I seriously had no idea what else to do. Me: All outta ideas.
Bald. Thats a look.
There is some kinda chemical breakdown going on in my brain. Since I have been responsible for myself, no matter the circumstances, buying toilet paper and paper towels completely eludes me. I am in the aisle; I think we have enough; we NEVER have enough. Never. Never in my life have I ever had an abundance of either of these items in the house yet I still go through the same routine, every time I am at the grocery store.
Self aware system, unable to recode itself. Sad.
If you were possessed by some demon as a young adult, I have an idea to seriously turn that shit in your favor. If you can convince the demon that you are cool with sharing a body, think about how easy it would be to cheat on tests in school. Your demon could just carve the answers into your skin from the inside. No ink stains on your palms blurring with sweat, no little concealed notes falling on the floor at the wrong time, and no trips to the principals office head hung low. NO TRACE. Of course, I am thinking that it might hurt. And of course, bleeding during exam time might make them send you to the school nurse instead.
But they give lollipops sometimes I think. Or they should.