I Feel Like Samson...

Sugar Daddy and I get our hair cut (and colored but his is just the tips, kinda girlie, I know but I'm the one who talked him into it) by my friend Cheryl. We headed up there Saturday afternoon to find her in extreme pain from her back again. The surgery she had a while back helped for a while be she has to go in for a more intensive surgery.

In the meantime, she's on 6 - 8 painkillers a day. We didn't know this until after she started but it soon became obvious that she was a little out of it, actually borderline psychotic may be more accurate.

SD's hair came out fine. My color came out fine. She asked me how I wanted my hair cut and I said, as I always do, just trim it. I've been trying to grow my hair out for ages - damn genetics that doesn't let it get very long! She cut it and combed it out so it dried pretty straight and I headed home without inspecting it too closely.

My first clue that all was not right was in the shower the next morning. Although I used the regular amount of shampoo, it ended up being too much. It also felt like there wasn't a lot of hair in the back.

I let it air dry for my Shirley Temple look (or poodle look if it's humid). When I looked in the mirror a few hours later...

Ack!!!!

My hair was barely down to my shoulders. Since when does a trim mean take over 2 inches off?!?!

Sigh.

There's nothing to do but let it grow out again. But, next time, I'm drug testing her before she gets out the scissors!

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