So, today was a day. Normally, Friday and I are BFFs. See, I was born on a Friday, so I’ve always been kind of partial. Today, though, was looooong. Also normally, I work from home on Fridays, but since I needed to coordinate with a coworker, I decided to go into the office so we could collaborate up a storm.

This is not what happened. To begin with, I slept in, thus missing my yoga practice again and setting up a decent amount of pre-breakfast irritation. I didn’t even get up and have breakfast, because I relocated from the bedroom to the living room couch, where I read for a mere 10 minutes. Weirdly, though, the clock felt it was longer than 10 minutes, so suddenly it was nearly 8 am and I still hadn’t showered. Nice.

I packed my jogging stuff (pronounced “yogging,” which, just for the record, WordPress just autocorrected to “hogging”. Interesting.) so I could go for a lunchtime run. This also did not happen, because it was gross and yucky outside. I’m not actually a total rain wuss, because I can run in the rain, get soggy, but then warm up with a hawt shower and then continue the warming in my sweatpants (there will be an entire post, or possibly many, dedicated to my love of sweat pants at some point soon). But, since I was in the office, I would just get cold and miserable and stay that way. I can’t shower in public places. That’s another story for another day. So many stories all the time. You’re welcome for me not dragging you down like 17 tangential rabbit holes in this post.

So, no run, no yoga and a general lack of motivation made me feel pretty lazy. I’m in a low-energy phase right now, so I’m not feeling super productive. I keep To-Do lists in my Charlie Brown Moleskine daytimer, so that I can check stuff off and feel a sense of accomplishment. I checked off like 5 things today, but still felt like a slacker. Go figure.

Things started looking up around 3, when I realized I was soon to be off for my haircut. Getting my hair cut is possibly one of my greatest pleasures. The head massage, the yummy-smelling product and the fact that for a brief post-salon period, my hair looks less like the styling involved a blind creature without opposable thumbs.

Due to excessive Groupon, Dealfind, Couvon and Ethical Deal purchasing (I tend to buy any yoga and salon deal), I have had to keep a pretty tight salon schedule. I’ve learned to read the fine print, because otherwise, you’re left booking 3 haircuts in 5 months, which is tricky when you’re trying to grow your hair out.

Anyway, I went to a lovely salon and had a super stylist, both of which shall remain unnamed, because, you see, my stylist kind of cut my face. Yep, I bled my own blood and everything. It was in the bang-trimming portion of the cut, just towards the end. I’ve always been nervous while getting my bangs trimmed, because they run the scissors along my eyebrow ridge. I find that my eyebrow ridge is really close to my eyeballs, which get really scared about sharp pointy tools.

I felt a little pinch and gave a little flinch (you like that?). I thought maybe it was just a pinchy pinch, but then noticed that the stylist, and consequently everyone else I talked to, was talking to me, while their eyes drifted up above my right eye, which is, coincidentally, where I felt the pinch.

In a show of Canadian politeness, I tried to hide the obviously bleeding wound, so she wouldn’t feel bad, despite the fact that I wasn’t upset and that she had, in fact, nearly blinded me (though in the nicest possible way). Maybe I’m embellishing, but then again, I was very nearly decapitated, so I am sure I’m entitled to a little more loose creativity in my creative non-fiction.

I’ve included photos, because this is a blog and that is what I should do. Enjoy.