Shit On a Shingle
I decided to trim my hair before going to bed. About a five minute job. Apparently I didn't get the guard on the clippers snugly, and it fell off. The problem is that it fell onto a towel -- no noise. Did a couple swaths, checked my progress, and instead of 3/8" I had about 1/32" of an inch of hair. Bother, so much for five minutes. More time is needed to get a very short cropping to look right. Maybe I'll be a bald MacBeth. At least I still have time to grow my hair and beard back to where I had initially planned for it to be for the show. Lori will be a bit startled, but I'll see what hair length works best for her as Lady M.
I have been cutting my own hair for years, about eight if I remember aright, and this is the first disaster. Maybe it will be serendipitous. Only time will tell.
G'night.
I have been cutting my own hair for years, about eight if I remember aright, and this is the first disaster. Maybe it will be serendipitous. Only time will tell.
G'night.
1 Comments:
Maybe it's the jinx that is getting you. Perhaps you should not be writing out the full name of the play even in the blog. "The Scottish Play," "Mac."
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