So I got a haircut.
…Half of my hair is gone.
…And I just know that people will
make a big fuss about it on Monday at school. It’s a given. Since half of my
hair is gone.
It’s actually 5 centimetres shorter than I’d
wanted – and even my mum, the cutter, said that it was shorter than she’d
expected it to be since I was sitting down on a chair at that moment in time
and it was hard to tell.
I just know that I will not be in a good
mood on Monday. I just… know.
People will be crying over my hair. But it’s my effin’ hair, and I don’t really care that much. If life wasn’t worth living, what’s the point of caring about some… strands of… carbon? (are they carbon? I don’t think so. But, meh…)
So if it’s my effin’ hair, why would other people be screaming over it?
Like hell I would know.
But they would do it.
If they don’t… then I’m mistaken and all is
good. ^^
But I’ll probably still be in a bad mood.
That, or I’ll be in a very good mood to stop myself from being in a bad mood.
