Sidetracked



Bon Voyage

My hair, like my roommate's boyfriend, has overstayed its welcome.
Tomorrow I have an appointment to get it chopped off, and I can't wait.
I've kind of become comfortable with its presence, but I don't think that is necessarily a good thing. I think lots of women grow their hair out long, and it becomes somewhat of a haven. Their hair is something they can hide behind; they can blend in with the crowd and go unnoticed.
This is not to say that my hair is all that long, or that I want to blend in, but I kind of like how my chin-length locks make me feel more feminine. I haven't had waiters calling me sir or lesbians hitting on me in a while, and I'm pretty sure this is because my hair isn't its usual short, crazy self.
But it's just too high-maintenance for me right now. I despise spending more that five to ten minutes styling it in the morning. I hate that it looks boring and just hangs there, tickling my face and begging for attention.
So it's time for a change. Its lease is up tomorrow and after it's gone I will have a goodbye party for it.

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