After many days of swimming against the current, I broke away from the shackles and chains this morning long enough to do something for myself. I have to admit, though, that getting my hair cut has a kind of general benefit for humanity as well.

First, nobody has to look at the wavy wilderness that my hair had become. It's okay if you're Andrew Jackson and you live on the twenty-dollar bill, but nobody wants to see that walking down the street. Not in this century, anyway.

Second, not having to deal with all that unnecessary foliage puts me in a better mood. I'm not saying I'm spreading sunshine and lollipops all over the place, but at least I've lost the perpetual scowl. It's most likely temporary, but I'm just talking about today anyway. Tomorrow is merely a strong probability at this point. If you're reading this, that means the promise was fulfilled.

And finally, it's going to take me about a third of the usual time to get in and out of the shower tomorrow (if there is a tomorrow, and I'm pretty much counting on it to tell you the truth). This will give me that much more time for Getting Things Done, so that I'll be spending less time complaining about Not Getting Things Done. Such a positive trend cannot be dismissed, when things have been sliding the other direction.

Three times the stylist asked me if it was short enough, and twice I told her to keep cutting. I was determined not to come home, look in the mirror, and wish I'd had more taken off. I might wish that a week from now, but for today I'm satisfied. For once in my life.