I graduated last Saturday. I've been taking a week off to celebrate, run errands, spend time with friends, and sleep.
Since I haven't been taking care of my looks lately, I decided to get a much-needed haircut this morning. As usual, I went to a certain cosmetology school that shall not be named. My friend Charlie keeps warning me not to go there, but I don't know much about salons or hairstylists. I am a creature of habit.
The hairstylist began pruning my head. When she finished, the floor was covered with what looked like several species of hairy animals. I left feeling pretty hot. My head felt about twenty pounds lighter. As I skipped downtown, I swished my hair. As I passed shiny store windows, I gazed lovingly at my reflection. It wasn't until I got home and inspected my head that I realized that I look like I'm wearing a large helmet. A helmet that is longer in front and shorter in the back, like a backwards mullet.