hair

Over the weekend I kept complaining about my hair. My fringe was too long; it was either in my eyes or going curly and looking silly. How annoying.

At work last night I kept pulling my hair. In between breaking glasses. « Oh, ce n’est vraiment pas mon soirée. » My friend cracked. Yeah, ce n’est vraiment pas TA soirée. I just could not concentrate on what I was doing, I felt like I was working on slow motion and not knowing where I was and what to do next. And my hair annoyed me.

My friend wanted to know what was wrong with my hair. I told her that I couldn’t see because my fringe was in my eyes. She laughed again and promised to cut it as soon as I find a comb. Tadaa – had one in my handbag. Excellent, no need to resort to a fork.

When it started to calm down we climbed upstairs, I wet my hair and sat on the bathroom floor with my face over the sink. She carefully combed my hair and started cutting with scissors we found behind the bar. Klip, Klip, Klip.

When I returned downstairs I got thumbs up – much better. And for the rest of the night I made no mistakes.

And the lesson is – when you have a problem: fix it.