And so to Wednesday, which will henceforth be known as the day of lost eyebrows.
Yesterday I took trotted to the hairdresser's, only to be told I had no appointment. I did. And after much faffing around, it transpired it had been written in the wrong column in the book of bookings. Rather than being with my usual stylist, D, who is very nice but resembles a drag queen, it was with a rather fierce looking chap. D offered to fit me in at the end of the day, but I was impatient. I took my chances with the fierce looking chap. Who completely ignored what I asked him for and chopped with abandon. I was too afraid to say anything. I told him it was "very nice", paid him - far more than I usually pay D - and skulked off.
At home, I wept. And realised that he'd barely touched my fringe. I should have called and asked to go back. Instead I got the nail scissors out. I trimmed and trimmed. I was very careful and precise. Except I wasn't. And now half my right eyebrow is gone.
In retrospect, it's a good job the fringe is much longer than I want it to be. And that hair grows.
Also on Wednesdays. As Bob correctly identifies, Wednesday is known as "hump day", as by lunchtime, we're wearing our way towards the weekend. Wednesday is also the day internal job ads go up on the intranet at my work, the day the binmen come and the day that my little brother was born on.
Devil's Haircut - Beck
Comments