Goodbye, hair

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I walked in the door, heartbeat in my throat (an altogether uncomfortable experience that I never wish to repeat), showed the lady at the front desk the picture of what I wanted, and I was off. No turning back.

“Why do you like want to chop off all your hair?” Ana, the stylist, asked. I will add that she had this constant uncertain look on her face almost like this was gonna be a hit-or-miss fiasco.

“I just want an actual haircut. I’m tired of just having long hair.” And that’s the reason. I decided in a matter of two hours, and the next day, my hair was laying abandoned on the floor.

No regrets! My head is light, my blow-dry time is substantially fractionalized, and I feel French. What’s not to love? Oh, there’s a picture for ya above!

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