Spasmodic: Day Two Hundred Eighty-Seven

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It should not be hard at all to get this done in thirty minutes or so, I can probably knock it out in just fifteen.  Today was busy as hell for a Sunday between Saturday and Monday.  As most of them are, but I think this is the last time ever that I will have to contemplate going into work on Sunday just to have a breath of air on Monday having already worked straight through Saturday. The new job won’t require it of me.  And I should have gone, really, because tomorrow will be a nightmare from hell’s city center, but one, I didn’t fucking want to, and two, my haircut and color took four fucking hours.

This is because, mostly, I now have a lot and I mean a lot of pink hair.   The rest was about scheduling and that most hair stylists like to take more than one client in four hours, I’m sure.  She was very nice and far more excited (thus far, visibly, anyway) about my trip than I am.  She also had a brief moment of oh, pink, um….but then she went with it and while she went through the whole overzealous “I’m going to do this to my hair!” reassurance that frankly, I needed because there are parts of my head that look like Jem and Barbie’s hot pink love child’s hair right now.  I’m both in love with it and aware that I spent a lot of money to do something that is making me stand the hell out via the use of a follicle cliche.  I’m sure that part of my mental processing about getting my hair colored was about the idea of not being invisible.  To people like Mr. Community Service guy who may have thought I was a nice person, but obviously I was not worth getting a number from or, you know, worth more than those lengthy stares he gave.  And maybe the pink isn’t the adult message I want to give, but I’m free-ish for a few weeks, for a little while and dang, strawberries and cream is what I asked for.  It was about being seen.

Of course, now that I’m processing the fact that I am going to Italy on Friday, don’t speak Italian, and am just hoping nothing goes awry because it’s not like in America that I’d know what to do if anything happened.  I do have a cousin going to Florence, I guess, but bleh.  My whole cell phone not working there is freaking me out.

Well, we (my little sister and I) also went shopping, I got new pants, and she told me about the kinda dickish stuff her nice boyfriend is doing.  Then, my older sister and I watched Spirited Away again which is amazing again and then she lost her mind and decided to help me clean up my room.  This is no small thing.  The floor is visible.  I feel…kinda sorta calm about one small piece of the puzzle.  Like it is at least underway.

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