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Just when I thought I was cast…

in stone, I go and change it up again.

I got two significant things done in my life yesterday… I got a job,
and I got a haircut.

I can’t say I’m excited about the job, as the interviewer herself put
it, I’m WAY overqualified to answer the phone for $XXX an hour. Rare,
I guess, you interview a candidate who has the capacity to not only do
YOUR job, but YOUR BOSSES job too… not to boast, but it’s the truth.
It was nice to hear her say how much of an asset I’d be to the
company… it’s been a while since anyone has seen me as an asset,
including myself.

In any case, it’ll be good to stand on my own two feet again, earn my
keep as it were, even if it isn’t what I WANT to be doing, when I want
to be doing it, where I want to be doing it, or for how much I want to
be doing it for.

Although I get to talk on the phone all day long, still sleep in late,
walk to work, spend summer mornings with the kids, the pays steady,
and well, that won’t be half bad.

The haircut was an emotional trip and a half….

I needed it badly, but didn’t want to lose all the work I’d put into
it. I’ve been growing my hair for three years now, and I’d grown
rather fond of it. The only time I considered cutting it was when my
mom was diagnosed, last fall. I would have gone through with shaving
it all off had she wanted it.

So my sister dragged me to the salon (she’s a bit of my stylist, and
couldn’t tolerate the fried ends anymore). I was prepared to do it,
and had been contemplating it anyways, but hadn’t quite decided how
much we were taking off.

I told her to the shoulders…. and layered…. I forgot to say long layers.

I bore a brave face as six inches of my hair was cut from my head, and
it took me a few hours to recognize myself in the mirror, but everyone
loved it, so it can’t be that bad.

Took me a while to figure out exactly what the issue was…

to be honest, my hair to me represented my connection to my youth…
my wildness, but at the same time, a symbol of my maturity, and a
crowning testament to my commitment to myself to never give up, and
never give in.

“There was nothing in the world that I ever wanted more than to feel
you deep in my heart, there was nothing in the world that I ever
wanted more than to never feel the breaking apart my pictures of you”

I feel like a clipped dog…. kinda.

I’m concerned that, like Samson, or Aslan, with my mane shorn, I am
left for dead and powerless.

Although Aslan rose again….

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