I feel like this post is a disturbingly accurate summary of my life in general.
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The running through the fields of flowers bit? Because that’s a pretty good way to love your life.
The rumors of my constantly running through fields of flowers have been greatly exaggerated.
I was thinking more like the part about unnecessarily prolonged procrastination and regret, followed by an all too brief moment of triumph when I finally get my shit together.
Ah. That. Yes, me too. Probably most of us, in fact. Or at least that’s what I tell myself that to feel a bit better about it.
I have hair of about 1 inch long. If that. And I love it. When it gets to 1.25″ I panic. Well, not really. But I am uncomfortable. This sequence says it all for me! I love it!
I’m glad to find people who relate. Otherwise this comic might have made me seem a little off.
No, I had total recognition of the feeling!
silence: you are sicker than i had previously imagined.
I never really plan what I’m gonna do with my hair (and I’m pretty adventurous) so the three days immediately following a haircut are usually spent trying to decide if I’ve made a huge mistake. Somewhere along the line I decide I don’t care.
I am not hair-adventurous and rarely change my hair style, so for me a hair cut is more of a factory reset than a big decision.
Factory resets are always nice – provides you don’t lose any data. There’s a joke in there somewhere but it’s far to early for me to find it, lol.
I drive my hairdresser insane as i tell her to cut’em short, followed by ‘no … ok, just do it … but wait … ummm … I never said THAT short!’
I’m the opposite. I say “cut it short” and mean it, but the hairdresser always assumes I don’t and I end up with disappointing slightly-too-long hair.
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