Well, I wrote a little bit last night, anyway. Not fiction, but not blogging, either. So that counts for something.

*sigh* I just went and got my hair cut, and mostly it’s fine, but the woman I go to has this irrational fear of cutting hair very short. I told her to take the back down to a 2, and I didn’t do a touch-test before I left the place, and I goddamned well should have, because it’s long enough to grab with my fingertips, which means it’s at least a 3 which is TOO FUCKING LONG. Jesus *Christ*, why can’t she do what I tell her to?

I need a better stylist. :(

And when we got home from getting my hair cut, Zilli came running down the stairs and we said hi to him, and Shaun said, “I just got done molesting him,” which pissed me off, too. What he *meant* was, he just got done cuddling and bothering him, but it’s not what he said and the phrase upset me.

I am not in a very good mood.

1 thought on “well…

  1. Mrp. Clearly, someone needs to go bite your stylist. I shall file my teeth to wicked points and work up the muscles in my jaw.

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