Execrable pun. I find myself quasi-unexpectedly hurtling towards a haircut. Hurtling.
Hair appointments usually unfold like this with me:
Self: Hmmm. I should get a haircut soon.
Self, 3 months later: Hmmm. I should get a haircut soon.
Self, 5 months later: Hmmm. I should get a haircut soon.
Self, 6 months later: Hi, Richard? I'm thinking I should come and see you sometime soon...
Self, 7 months later: Hey Richard--nice to see you. How many inches do we gotta hack off this time? (I should state here that Richard is very good, and would never do something so barbaric as "hack").
So this time, I finally got around to calling him yesterday after months of procrastination...and he called me back thismorningandI'mgoingtonightaieeeeeeeeee.
Haven't had time to mentally adjust to the idea. Must practice: Hi Richard--how's it going? Yeah, a lot's happened since I saw you last summer. So...how many inches do we gotta hack off this time...?
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