Every 6 weeks, like clockwork, I get to do something I love. Are you dying to know what it is….?
Its getting my hair done. I’m actually growing it out. But due to being in slight denial regarding my age, I have to get it colored. But the process I don’t mind. It means I get to sit in a chair for and hour and a half and do nothing. No one has any expectations of me for a solid hour and a half, but to sit and be still.
And then there’s my hairdresser, Kerrie. What is it with the hairdressers? I know that famous people usually spill all their secrets to their hairdressers (does that term date me, “hairdresser”? as much as my grey hair, I’m afraid. I’ll use stylist from here on out). Anyway, the “stars” all dish to their hair stylists. And I must say, I find myself doing the same. Sitting in that chair, whether she wants to hear it or not, she’s going to get the good, bad, and ugly of my day. And the best thing about Kerrie, is that she always listens. I don’t know if she rolls her eyes when I come in, but she acts like she cares, and even offers up some wisdom. And its good wisdom!
Everyone needs a hair stylist like Kerrie. Its the cheapest therapy there is. I need to get her a gift.