Cutting my hair

Cutting your own hair is great when you're poor. Cutting it short is great when you're me. But, MAN, does it grow out fast!

Every couple weeks I have way more hair than I know what to do with. OK, I know what to do with it! And I think I'm getting better. It didn't seem to take quite an eternity last night and I did the whole head. Next time, I'll time it.

Next time I hope to not have 3 separate cuts on my fingers from the scissors.
Next time I intend to remember to move the toothbrushes away from the sink so I don't have to wash the hair off of them when Tom's not looking.

And there is no doubt there will be a next time, and that it will be sooner rather than later.

I can't stop loving my bowl cut.

Tonight I am hoping for a date with Tom at a local pizza place. I really, really like him and pizza. And it's raining today and I'm maybe the only North-westerner alive who still thinks rain in romantic... or maybe we all do.

And I had to stay up past midnight writing last night, and have been writing all day (sort of). Plus 50% of the cost of our pizza tonight goes to Partners In Health, according to a thing I found lying on a table. But who needs all these reasons?

Eating out may be the only way to make it through the end of term. Wish me luck!