Running Late and Bad Hair

As I came into the building this morning, I was busy muttering something along the lines of, "note to self, deodorant must be applied after the shirt is on."

Flashback to 40 minutes earlier...

"Mom, what is that white stuff on your shirt?" As most of you know it is never a good thing when you children point out 'white stuff' on your shirt. I had done something I don't recall doing since junior high. I had deodorant plastered up and down the sides of my blouse. On to the task of finding a new shirt and of course, new pants, since the ones I had on only went with that particular blouse.

Second note to self for the day; it is not a good idea to have a radical new hairstyle in the middle of a full blown life crisis. I spent 3 and a half sodding hours in the hair salon yesterday and $185 (with tip - I tipped her?!!!), so that I could walk out with the female version of the mullet, complete with shag.

There is nothing technically wrong with my haircut, except that it is completely out of style and the horror of having people think this is what I meant to do to myself. It might also be an acceptable hairstyle if I were over the age of 60, which most of her clientele apparently is, however, that probably applies to 90% of the stylists in the Phoenix metro area. At least my hair is not blue (and the first person to remind me I look like my mom with this style will lose a finger - got it?!!). I am not even sure she was done cutting my hair. I just told her I had to pick my kids up and then she hurried to finish up. Probably not a good thing either.

I now have the dilemma of, "do I go back to the same gal to get it fixed (note; I would have to pay the bag to fix it, it would not be a freebie)? Do I go to someone else? Or do I suck it up and let it grow out?" I don't think I can live with the shag, but I also don't want to pay more money to have it fixed. I think it should be perfectly acceptable to wear a baseball hat for 6 weeks. So, here I am at work with my head held high. All the while thinking, "I'm sportin' a mullet, where's the nearest Van Halen concert?"

The upside to the radical change is messing with the minds of the men I work with. "Did you get a haircut?" "Nope." "Your hair looks different (furrowed brow male tries to remember hair color and style from yesterday - with limited success). "I did wash it today."

Ahh, well, screw it. It'll grow back. Right? Right?