Why is it, after I have paid unmentionable amounts of money getting my hair done, I have to rush home, without passing go, to wash/dry/style it again myself? I don’t do that when I go to the dentists, where, again, I have paid vast amounts of money (although most who know me would never believe that!). I would never dream of reviewing the pedicurists work – she quite obviously knows her job better than I do. I don’t even check the work the eyebrow waxer does on me, despite the pain she inflicts. Needless to say work of the tat artist was left exactly as he intended.
But as I walk out the door of the hairdresser, catching that last glimpse of myself in the mirror, I realize that this is not an image which I recognize. It makes me immediately uncomfortable and increasingly tense, until, as I drive up to my own front door, I find myself avoiding neighbours and ducking in through the back. Straight up to the shower – and the promise of a hairstyle I am familiar with/can justify.
This means that a visit to the hairdresser has a certain attendant time implication. Leaving little time for those vital, final preparations for the most longed for holiday in history!!! (See- and you thought I had forgotten to mention that tomorrow – at last – we’ll be heading to sunny Spain!!!!)
So – next blog may well mention some fun in the sun!!