I've been overly hyper the last few days. Maybe it's the loud orange surf shorts I'm wearing. Cause I've never had board shorts before and don't they just look spiffy? Or that after two days of swamp rain it's brilliantly gorgeous outside so I simply must run as fast as possible around the building a few times because I can. Who knows. Who cares! Boingy boingy boingy...
I promised to get away from me, but I've got nothing else to blargh about. Oh, right well there was the flat tire yesterday, but that merely proved how much of a wussy I am at changing a tire. Of course the lanky tow truck guy did have a nifty spinning tire iron thingy, so it wasn't really fair.
To make up for previous incompetence, I attempted a marathon at the store in the last 10 minutes before they closed and bought toothpaste, razors, toilet paper, laundry soap, and a hairbrush. Although I lost points for forgetting the sunscreen. Because it was the very thing that motivated me to do the dash in the first place. I seemed to run out of everything all at once. So in celebration of new beginnings I bought new underwear too. And hey, while I'm at it let's be crazy and get some boxer briefs for a change. Now I'm all clean shaven and feelin' funky fresh. Although it's fun being a hobo, I don't always enjoy the holey draft in my pants.
Note to Future Self: Always wash new undies before first use. Especially the odd one-off blue pair that you'll never admit to owning, yet came assorted in the sealed package of white ones, but you didn't realize it till you got home and it's not big enough of a deal to complain about. And that secretly you got a silly thrill out of wearing them but won't make a habit of it. Cause nobody sees your undies anyway. If no clean undies left...find an excuse to call in late until you've done the laundry. And really, you don't know where they've been first. Lest you look down in the shower later and wonder if you have a medical condition that is causing you to turn into one of the Blue Man Group. Venture forth commando style only in dire emergencies. Like running out of Clif bars or Sharpies that work and you need one RIGHT NOW. And that above all else you also enjoy run-on sentences.
The new toothpaste feels like I have saliva control issues when I use it. The older kind didn't foam up this much, so if I use it in public some may think I have zombie cooties. Yahoo, my teeth are squeaky.
I thought that my hairbrush was just getting ultra dusty on it's own because of the state of my house. I was tired of purging it of dust bunny warrens. So I used the new brush this morning and realized that the dust was coming from my hair and not the other way around. Oof. No wonder I have weird sinus problems. It's definitely time for a haircut.
Intermission: Excuse me, while I recover from the really intense bit of horseradish that just flew up nose. Talk amongst yourselves. Yowza!
I usually get a haircut at every life-changing event so I'm about due. About now, my hair is down past my shoulders. I do like it long and it's the first time it's looked actually good long. It's a bit like a swarthy, heavy metal pirate with an edge of Jesus hippie. Except usually a lot cleaner. After about a week it gets sticky, but I finally learned that you don't wash it every day either. I can stick my finger in an electric socket to duplicate that look if I ever need to.
It's times like these that I'd like to post pictures, but I really must resist.
It'll probably be short. Maybe I'll pomp it blue and get sunglasses to complement my shorts. I'm tempted to just go in for the $4.99 coupon special at the haircut farm since I had to buy other amenities this month, that's all I can afford. I can't justify spending more than $10 for a cut, but... generally you do get what you pay for. It's the curse of being visually aware but lazy. The first good haircut I got since I was six years old was the day before my wedding. I think it was only $20 but she may have cut me a deal since I was gettin' hitched. Although I looked like a seminary student it was still swell to have a 'do that looked groomed and stayed that way.
Probably get one at the same time as the monkeys. Monkey No. 1 has always had a Charlie Brown hurricane swirl that eventually would fro out if left to it's own devices, like mine does. Monkey No. 2 has remarkably straighter Dennis the Menace hair but flips and curls, which is also similar to mine. If they go long enough you could just call them Hobbit and Elf for short. Which I think is kind of adorable in a Shaggy-goes-to-Middle-Earth kind of way. Luckily, they don't just have daddy to rely on when making these choices. Poor monkeys, though. They may be doomed to suffer "roadkill hair" that plagued me through my early years. Somebody actually did ask me once in junior high when I'd be putting the animal on my head out of it's misery.
OK so now I've just had lunch, I'm full and the sun is warm. I wonder if anyone would notice if I just knocked out the wall, stripped down to my skivvies and had me a snooze on the lawn. As soon as I get the sunscreen. :)