I work for a small company, and the administrative assistant hand delivers our pay stubs every other Friday. Yesterday afternoon, as she made her rounds at 3 o'clock, she got to pass on a little bit of good news as well. The owners had decided to send us home early because of Good Friday. Of course, I was in the middle of something and didn't actually get out the door for another half hour, but it was welcome news nonetheless.
The first thing I did when I got the notice was call home. I wanted to suggest to SodaBoy that we go and get haircuts and coffee drinks, but he didn't answer the phone. When I got home, his car was in the driveway, and looking inside, I could see him in the back room, talking on the phone and looking out the window. I ran around back and tapped on the window. When he came around to the back door to let me in, there was no phone--it turns out he had been listening to my office voicemail greeting, which I made obnoxiously long to deter people from actually leaving a message.
The first thing I noticed upon seeing him was that he had gotten a haircut. Further questioning revealed that he had also enjoyed a coffee drink. I won't go as far as to suggest we are any great minds, but we sure think alike.
SodaBoy accompanied me back out for support, and I obtained the dreaded haircut. I am kind of a freak in that I don't like haircuts. I know many people feel pampered or something and actually enjoy the process, but to me it's an awful lot like going to the dentist, with someone I don't know getting all up in my business and chattering away the whole time. My friend T. gave me a haircut last summer, but it's been over two years since I was in a salon. As far as I'm concerned, the best thing about a haircut is how much quicker it is to wash and rinse short hair.
I hadn't really intended to blog about the haircut, but I was taking some pictures on the self timer to send to my mother and sister when Rhea jumped up, demanding attention just while I was posing, causing my hair to obscure my face as I looked down at her. It's not a great photo: Rhea's face is blurry because it was a long exposure, and she had been looking up at me until the shutter engaged. However, blogging has re-trained my eye, and now a portrait with hair blocking face translates to instant bloggability. So here it is: my new head.