I am nothing if not predictable. Today I suddenly got it in my head that my hair had to go. I hate having long hair in the summer, so when it starts getting hot I invariably head (no pun intended) out to the hairdresser to get scalped for the summer. I will walk into the hairdresser and point to a picture in a book and the hairdresser will look at me with my long locks and say “are you sure?” At which point I will remind her (because she doesn’t remember me) “well I did it last year”. I get as much of my hair as possible cut off during the summer, and then let it grow out over the winter.
I have a love/hate relationship with my hair, it serves a purpose of course, it covers my head, but I am not wedded to a particular style or cut to the point that I have to keep it the same way all the time. Like today, I went from having long shoulder length locks to a do that my husband calls the “pixie do”. As I sat in the chair today I felt liberated as the long swatches of hair fell to the linoleum floor of the salon, knowing that I would no longer be plagued by a neck that was matted in sweaty hair.
After I returned to the office a client came in to drop off some paperwork. She looked at me with a shocked expression and said “you had all your hair cut off!” I told her that I do it every year, and she was amazed that my hair would grow so long over the course of a year. That is the way it is, it grows like a weed. She bemoaned the fact that her hair grew so slowly and I smiled and shrugged my shoulders.
Short hair in the summer, long hair in the winter to keep my neck warm. It works for me.