I need a haircut.
I got about eight inches cut off my hair back in August. I haven't had a haircut since.
It's now long enough to brush the collars of my shirts and to separate. That means it's long enough to annoy me.
And, the worst part?
It fell into a center part a couple of days ago. I let it go and went about my day. At one point, I went to the restroom at work and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.
Yikes! I looked vaguely like Brad Pitt circa World War Z.
Not a good look, at least for a 42 year old mom.
So, yes. I either need a haircut or I need to suck it up and grow it past this point and never, ever part it in the middle and put both sides behind my ears.
A mom, a dad and two daughters. We're living ordinary lives with a twist of 5p- (Cri du Chat) for spice. But we're about so much more than our younger daughter's genetic diagnosis.
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