As you might have guessed, yesterday was one of my Down Days. I have them once in a while, but I don't like to let them linger. Most importantly, I don't like to let them linger as the top entry, because they don't really represent what I try to do here. And sometimes, let's face it, I try too hard. So let's take it down a notch, shall we, Emeril?
So what do you do when you have a bad day? You go out and change something about yourself, don't you? Even if you're as innately resistant to change as I am, sometimes you just have to do whatever it takes to get moving in a different direction. Or at least line up in the outside lane on the restart, for a change. (That's Nascar talk; don't get me started.)
Actually, getting a haircut has been on my calendar, scheduled for today, since my last haircut. I counted backwards from the wedding the number of days I wanted my hair to grow out so that, on the off chance I should accidentally get into one of the important photos on that auspicious occasion, I wouldn't stand out. Not too long, not too short. My hair, that is. I can't do much about the rest of it.
One other haircut had been on my calendar, exactly halfway between the last one and the one I got today, but I had to cancel that one when jury duty got in the way. It was a mere coincidence of scheduling, and a bit of bad luck, and of course I could have had it cut in the morning, since court only met in the afternoon, or on the weekend, or on one of the off days in the court calendar.
Something made me not want to make a drastic change in my appearance during the course of the trial, though. I didn't want to take a chance on calling attention to myself. I wanted to blend in, which I did successfully until we got into the jury room and started deliberating and my cover was blown. I was somebody else in that room, but at least I looked the same as I had sitting in the jury box listening to testimony.