Hair Today...Gone Tomorrow

Sometimes going to your hair stylist is better than going to see your therapist. Sometimes simply cutting your hair allows you to change your own life.

Hairapy, if you must.

Okay, so I got my haircut yesterday and I feel fabulous. No, I still don't have a job. Yes, her white car is still in his driveway. And yes, I still need to cut down on the sugar intake. But, still, when you have a good hairdo, life just seems to be more tolerable.

Shallow? Damn right it is, but sometimes it IS better to look good rather than to feel good. And since I can't lose the 10 lbs that mysteriously appeared over the 44 days the girls were in Dallas, a good haircut has to do for right now.

So I called my stylist on Thursday and begged for an appointment. As luck would have it, she could see me on Friday at 11AM. Yippee. Yippee. Yippee.

Ah, I have been with my hair stylist, Theresa for 5 years. And through those years, we have survived 6 different hairdos (4 of hers, 2 of mine), 3 different salons, her cancer scare and my divorce. And now we are still together in her very own salon (to which I am very proud). She's an amazing soul, my stylist. She's the I-am-Woman-Hear-Me-Roar kind of gal. Strong. Opinionated. Holistic. We can talk about men, dogs, restaurants, men, vitamins, and men. We make each other laugh. We can sit in comfortable silence. We have a great relationship. And I am very glad for her.

Okay, I am ashamed to admit it, but I have cheated on her twice in our relationship. Once when I felt she wasn't getting the direction in which we were going. And another time, when she couldn't fit me in on a days' notice...and I had a hot date coming up. Both times I came clean to her, although my true confessions were unnecessary. Because she took one look at me and knew I cheated. It just wasn't her work on top of my head. Ooops.

Ah, my good haircut. I felt like all of the hair on the floor symbolized my stress and worry. Snip. Snip. Snip. All gone. Marvelous. Hey, make no mistake, I know for a fact that women from all walks of life feel this hairapy phenomenon. Look in the grocery store, and you can tell when a woman just got a haircut. It's a glow or something. Lit up from within. A skip in her step. Happy. Fulfilled. Satisfied. Okay, okay, okay, maybe it's only until her next next shampoo, but we take what we can get, eh?

Yeah, so I still have to find a meaningful, creative job with a purpose. I still have to work through the ridiculous ZLHF (you know, the Zen-like Heartbreak of February...blah, blah, blah). AND I still need to work out three times a week.

But now at least I will do it all with a better attitude and a new sassy hairdo.

Ah, hairapy.