This is probably TMI but whatever, it's my journal.
I have run out of loo roll. This is bad. I forgot to get some while I was out and now it is cold and I am sleepy and headachey and ready for bed and really NOT wanting to put on three extra layers to run to the shop for loo paper.
BUT it's a very inconvenient time of the month! It's like a train wreck down there! All gore and severed limbs (okay maybe not that last part). And this makes the need for paper more pressing, but also makes the likelihood of me leaving the house again tonight very slim indeed.
I think I'll just wash. Like they did in the days before loo roll. I'm sure, uh, Cleopatra didn't fret because she was a bit gorey. She probably just bathed in goats milk or something. Hmm. We do have some skimmed in the fridge, but I think I'll just stick to soapy water.
In less gross news, I got a haircut today. I am very paranoid about getting haircuts as I find hairdressing salons the most terrifying places on earth. My mum's friend used to cut my hair in my kitchen when I was a kid, so I just don't really know how they work. And then people pull you about and massage your head and TOUCH YOU and UGH. And then how on earth does one tip a hairdresser? I never do, because I don't know if I'm meant to, and I'm sure they always think I'm stingy. And they judge you. "Oh, you don't spend much time on it do you?" they say, tutting. Well, no I don't actually. Because it's just HAIR. Washing the stuff is effort enough. My hair straighteners only come out for weddings and funerals.
ANYWAY, the point I was trying to reach was that this particular trip was fairly untraumatic. They were very chilled out, and gave me tea (I was supposed to get beer but they were obviously fooled by my baby face and I didn't want to embarrass myself by pointing out that I am actually 23 and would quite like some booze now, please) and the hairdresser did her utmost to fix the mess of a mullet-y thing I got last time. Actually, the look on her face was priceless. She even said "I'm not a miracle worker!" and then gamely attempted to make it look less stupid. She was very encouraging too, and told me to be patient and grow it out and it'd all be fine.
Anyway, she gave me a sort of long side fringe to try and make my short layers at the back look a bit longer. It's quite nice, but I'll have to see what happens when I style it myself (by style I mean wash and blast with a hairdryer. None of this weird, blow-straight with brushes malarky, which seems like so much effort, just thinking about it makes me sleepy).
I dyed it darker too. Pictures later, I'm sure.