so this is what my hair looked like when i went to work today:




i HAAAATED it. too freaking short around the face, and i couldn't do ANYTHING with it. so i went in between shifts and threw myself at their mercy. i was practically in tears as i told my tale of woe. they INSTANTLY knew who it was i was talking about, so it sounds as if i'm not the only one that it has happened to. they comforted me, sat me down, and recut my hair for free.

she kept trying to understand what i wanted done with it, and i kept saying "i just want it all GONE. get RID of it. i can't do anything with it, anyway."











actually, these weren't taken at home, these were in all actuality me in the barnes & noble bathroom, hoping no one would walk in on me taking pictures of myself in a barnes & noble bathroom. (they didn't.)

i giggled as she hacked all of my hair off, i had forgotten how much... FREE-er i feel with no hair (though i've never had it THIS short.) i don't feel as attractive, and do feel boyish, but i think the cut fits my personality better. (says me.)

not a bad night at work, almost every single one of my customers reacted as if they had taken a handful of prozac a half hour before showing up in my line, they were all THAT HAPPY. wow. and joking with each other and me and each other... it all started when an elderly gentleman and wife walked up to customer service and said "can you handle me here?" and i responded "sure! but the question is... can you handle MEEE?!?" ha ha. i love nights where the customers in other lines all look wistfully towards my line because every single person is gaffawing by the time they leave.

rawk.

spent the first 4 hours of my morning trudging up and down a flight of stairs carrying heavy boxes both ways, and the next almost 2 in the back of a semi unloading 2000 boxes. needless to say, after only like an hour or so's sleep, i've met my lifting limit for the day.