A new haircut...

I just got my hair cut and I suppose it's okay, but it's shorter that it was the last time and I have to get used to it, and to the way it is fixed, and I dare not look into the mirror for fear that I will not like it. I've avoided both the bathroom mirror and the hallway mirror so far and I'm planning on avoiding the closet mirror too for a while longer, anyway, and then I have to decide which one I am going to look in first. Of course, the one that's most flattering, and I think that's the bathroom mirror. I will carefully sneak up on it and take it by surprise and look into it when it least expects it.

I've been feeling a bit anxious all day and in the morning my eczema was acting up quite a bit and I had to scratch a lot. I get that often when I'm nervous. I did nonsense things that didn't do anybody any good at all on the computer and basically wasted my time and at 1 pm I realized that I forgot to take my medicines in the morning, so I took them all then and sat down by the dining table to wait for them to work.

After about half an hour I made a shopping list and went to the supermarket, where I spend a cool 15 minutes inside getting the things I needed. Outside it was warm and humid and it made me sweat something awful. After I had loaded up all my bags, I went to the tobacconist, who's little shop was stifling hot and where I luckily only had to be about 3 minutes before I bicycled home.

When I got there, and hauled my bike inside, the dog barked at me while I unloaded the groceries. I don't know why, it is a new thing he does, as if he is telling me a story about how happy he is to see me home again and what the cats did while I was gone. He didn't want to eat, I tried that, and he went to sleep as soon as I sat down to drink a glass of juice.

I ate some Camembert, but had to stop and save the rest, because it was too much for me to finish. It did taste delicious, though, and then my sister called me and told me, in the course of the conversation, that her least favorite cheeses were Brie and Camembert. Isn't that funny? Those are the ones I like so much. Actually, I like all cheese. I don't think there's one I say no to. Is there? I'll even eat processed cheese on a hamburger, when I still ate those, and macaroni and cheese from a box.

Anyway, I was feeling a bit anxious and I keep having that feeling and I wonder if it is finally from having quit taking the tranquilizers. I've tried to talk myself out of it, but find it impossible to do, as if I'm not quite in control of it, though when I'm really occupied, I don't feel it so much and it is practically gone. I find that I can really focus when I'm behind the computer typing and doing mundane things such as making lists and inventories of my books. Things that require dogged concentration and ability and stick-with-it-ness. I reality I'm a very dull person who likes dull jobs.

I'm supposed to walk the dog one more time, but he's very merrily snoring at my feet and I'm waiting for it to cool off a bit before I go outside. Itś so muggy and it wouldn't surprise me if there were rain coming, but I don't have my little forecast bar anymore. I don't know where it went. It disappeared into the ether. Just like single socks. To the dimension where multiplying clothes hangers come from. You lose some and you receive some.

I have an unending supply (it seems) of plastic clothes hangers on the bottom of my closet and when I try to pull one out, they all grab each other by the neck and become a tangled mess, just like their wire relatives. I don't know how I got to be in possession of so many, but I think they are mating in the dark, and sometimes when the door creaks open, I know it's from the ruckus of the mating hangers. There's no other explanation.

Every once in a while I put up my hands to feel my hair. I know I will love it in the morning when I get up and I won't have to do a thing to it. The hairdresser put wax in it and spray on it that both smell like candy or strawberry jam, whichever you prefer it. It smells very good and she says she never gets tired of it.

There was a woman after me, who had come to get her hair cut, who had washed her own hair at home. Isn't that silly? For me that's part of the treat, having your hair washed by somebody else. The hairdresser does it so gently and thoroughly and the water is always the right temperature, I just love it. She washes all that awful wax and hairspray out that I've put in and on, in an effort to get my hair to stay in place, because it really was too long to fix it properly anymore. And that day sneaks up on you before you know it. One day your hair is fine and the next day it is not and nothing will help it. How lovely it is to go to the hair dresser.

I should be a walking advertisement for cheese and hairdressers and...well, for what else? For the local dog pound where I got Jesker. And for the supermarket and for the tobacconist and for bicycle repairmen. I should have ads put on my bike. Rent A Space!

The church bells are ringing and it is 7:15 pm. I just want to call your attention to it. Why are they ringing at this time on a Thursday?

Okay, that's all I wrote. I have to wake my snoring dog now and walk him.

Have a good evening!

Ciao...