Executive Summary:

Do not cut your hair 15 minutes before an interview

If you wear glasses, do not take them off when you cut your hair - unless you are going for that insane/disturbed-cut your hair while off your meds look.

The morning was not going well. Nor had the past few years but each moment is a possible shift in-out-through-inside-upsidedown the shit so as long as David Sedaris continues to write life is good. But hair is bad.

Hair is really bad. Cut it myself last time-somehow avoided extreme bald spots. So it was a long bad cut, similar to a Pomeranian with mange or an unraveled q-tip.

Needed to be cut. Needed to make appointment with someone who does not use plastic safety scissors. That need feel down the hole of good intentions and general calendar-awareness deficiency (something like osteoporosis).

Today was yesterday and it was 1:58pm. Needed to leave house by 2:15 to get to 'informal' interview by 3pm. Hair is bad. A decision is made that good hair scissors translate into a good hair cut. Which is a glorious thing since I need a trim. Trim? Trim. Hmm. Hindsight of your own head is truly disturbing.

Put head over sink - cut, cut, cut, cut, snip, cut, ooo- little short there, cut, cut, cut, pouffy there, cut, cut, cut, hmmm, uneven, cut cut cut, oh shit, cut, cut, not so good when dry, cut, cut, hop in shower rinse head, tub clogging-get hair out of drain, rinse again, unclog again, shit this is a lot of hair, rise, repeat. Eeek 2:03. Cut, grab clump, cut clump, uhhhh shit, lesbian in an insane asylum a la 'girl interrupted', cut bangs?, bangs off, hmm, cut, cut, should stop cutting, cut, cut, ooh need to cut sides, take off glasses, cut, cut, cut, other side, cut, cut, cut...glasses back on, oh my bad idea I can see clearly that I could not see before, gulp, even out little girly side thingys, back looks like mullet, cut, cut, cut.

Lots of product, bad-good, well it is not really the time to ask now is it? 2:18. Fucker. More blush, earrings. Crap. Powder smear does not go well on black pants. What's a girl to do???

Drive like bat out of hell. Park in outragously priced garage. Walk down alley. Look in glass doors - make point not to look to closely. In elevator. Wrong floor - they are on six.

In elevator.

Going to the recruitment office at the Marines flashes through my mind. They would think I was a drag queen. Not good to be a woman looking like a man dressed as a woman. Fuck, this is brutal. Think about puppies.

Arrive at Agency.

May look good, may look like a mental hospital escapee who played in the make-up at Macy's. Receptionist, confirms name - I am convinced I am speaking jibber as it is a plain name and her head is cocked like a confused dog.

Dude, runs out of conference room... forgot our meeting. 'Can squeeze out 15 - I say reschedule. He is an ironed kinda guy and he looks like he has been hit by the clothes wadding brigade.

I am thankful (in a non-cruel manner) he was in his own personal hell - that way he would stay out of mine.

Reschedule. Beautiful.

...kind of -- what the fuck will I wear? Jesus then I will have realized I had a panic manic moment on my head. I could become a bouncer at a day spa. There are always options. Maybe I'll just change earrings - or wear a wig. Or just realize that is he after all a guy and my experience is that guys view hair as 1. long, 2. short, 3. bald - as I still have some hair on my head he will see it as short. Good. Good, that is, as long as I don't turn to my right and show the rat bite on the side of my head.