Losing my mind, getting my hair did, must be Thursday.

Today has been insane. INSANE. Possibly in the membrane, even. That’s just how insane.

So I get here, and the receptionist called out (AGAIN – I think she’s probably dying, I mean, what else could explain all of these absences except death? Oh, hypochondria? Yeah, I suppose there’s that, sure) so that means I’M ON DECK SKIPPY. Listen, I’m like the worst receptionist. Yes, sure, sure, I can answer a phone. Who can’t answer a phone? I even have a very pleasant phone voice. That’s like the only nice thing they say at my annual reviews, “You have a very pleasant phone voice.” But THEN the other admin person called out sick, too, so that leaves just me to do all of the typing work, PLUS answer the phones pleasantly, PLUS do the mail, PLUS body-check my co-workers who are totally nefariously trying to take each other’s scheduled conference rooms at unscheduled times, PLUS deal with the weirdo man-off-the-street people who just wander in here all “Hey, do you want to buy a copier?” (do you think any company is all, “ZOMG! A COPIER! I didn’t even think – WHAT AN AWESOME IDEA! JIM! FRANK! GET UP HERE! Listen to THIS! This guy wants to sell us a COPIER! I mean, think of the things we could DO if we had a COPIER!” Who doesn’t have a copier, man-off-the-street? I mean, seriously? And also, do you think that the person sitting at the front desk, who is obviously the lowest man on the totem pole, like the person who all the other totem-polians are stepping on and squashing, has the ability to authorize a copier purchase? Those things are PRICEY, yo), PLUS deal with the fact that one of the doors fell off one of our bathroom stalls so I have to deal with people telling me that every five minutes even though I sent out an email all “I KNOW ABOUT THE DOOR STOP TELLING ME SOMEONE’S COMING TO FIX IT CHILLAX,” PLUS listen, I kind of wanted to blog at some point today, you know? Ergh.

(Oh, yeah, side note, I have no idea what’s happening in the women’s bathroom here. Doors fall off, toilets keep getting clogged, someone keeps cutting their hair in one of the stalls so you walk in and there are like tumbleweeds of hair in the corners, someone keeps leaving magazines in the toilet-seat-cover dispensers; it’s kind of like going to the bathroom in a mental institution. You never know what you’re going to find. Ever. And it’s scary to think about.)

So anyway, yeah, today has been kind of the suck, I’m not going to lie, what with the mental institution bathrooms that possibly someone hulked out in and the phones ringing and the work and the people all calling in sick and also it snowed last night so every five minutes someone has to talk to me about the snow. “Did you see the snow?” No. No, I didn’t. I don’t have HUGE CEILING TO FLOOR WINDOWS RIGHT HERE. What’s snow? What’s this “snow” of which you speak? ZOMG WHAT IS THAT ON THE GROUND OUT THERE I AM SO SCARED RIGHT NOW. Yes, Sir Obvious, I SAW THE SNOW. I brushed it off my car this morning, I wore boots to work, I drove here in it. I live in New York, bub. Heads up, it sometimes snows here, usually in the winter months. IT IS NOT UNHEARD OF.

Anyway, so probably I should have spent all that time I was working thinking of some sort of theme to write about today but I am totally on brain-fry. SO MANY THINGS ARE HAPPENING HERE.

Also, I said the funniest joke to one of my coworkers and he was all serious-face when it was done. WHY DON’T YOU PEOPLE LOVE ME. OK, listen, is this not the best? So some woman dropped off some swag here yesterday? The swag was weirdo swag, though. Shoeshine kits and calculators that are made of rubber and bendy. Yeah, I don’t know, either. The shoeshine kits, especially. Except they did make me want to pretend to be Andy from Parks & Rec for a little while out in the lobby, see if I could start a new career. ANYWAY. So my coworker was all “CALCULATOR I WANT ONE” and then was playing with it and was all sadfaced because the minus key didn’t work. And, instead of saying, “Well, you know what they say, free shit is usually garbage” (what, they don’t usually say that? I say that. Don’t most people say that?) I said, “That calculator is trying to get you to keep a positive outlook.” HA! Get it? Because the MINUS key didn’t work! And he was SAD about it! POSITIVE outlook! That was the funniest, I know you’re all thinking that I’m totally probably like the funniest person ever. And you’re right, of course. Nope. Not my coworker. He just walked away, sadly shaking his head over his broken free rubber calculator. I don’t know what I have to do to get these people to see I’m like the best thing ever, seriously. I mean, probably I could pratfall, but even I’m not willing to take it that far. I’m using my A material and NOTHING. It’s like playing tennis against a wall made of GLUE.

So I’m totally getting a haircut tonight unless the snowpocalypse occurs. This is exciting, because it happens like once a year. I know. I totally lose my girl membership card for this. Listen, I have hair issues. Here are my hair issues. I know you’re totally on pins and needles because you are so excited to hear what they are. THE PHONE KEEPS RINGING IT IS NOT MY FAULT THE BLOG IS SUCK TODAY. Blame the receptionist of death, I am.

My hair is unruly. No matter what style my hair is in, it doesn’t do what I want it to. I have crazy person hair. Also eyes, but that’s not what we’re talking about, now is it. So I could get layers, short hair, long hair, bangs, a Flock of Seagulls do, whatever – it’s still going to either be flyaway or greasy, or frizzy or flat, depending on the day and also I think whatever mood it’s in. Also, it’s always going to have three cowlicks in the front (YES THREE I DON’T KNOW EITHER) and it’s always going to have a whole shitload of little frizzy things on the top, no matter what I do, unless I wear a hat. Oh, also, it eats hairspray. I can put a gallon of hairspray in, so it’s like a helmet, and then in ten minutes it’s like I put in NO hairspray. Crazy-person hair. Like this. I LOOK LIKE THIS ALL THE TIME.

I don’t like to spend time styling it. I have my morning down to a science. I get up, I slump around bemoaning the fact that I’m not independently wealthy, I get ready for work, I eat, I go. Doing something to my hair would take like an additional – what, fifteen, twenty minutes? So I’d have to get up EARLIER. What the hell. No. I brush my hair, I get it wet and I smush it around so it doesn’t stick up for a few minutes, until it dries, when it sticks up all over because CRAZY PERSON HAIR, and I’m good to go. I’m a total guy about my hair. It’s because I’ve given up, seriously. My hair’s unwillingness to work with me has broken me.

I don’t approve of haircuts that make me spend time styling it. So really, my options are limited. I can get it all one length; I can get layers; or, I suppose, I could get a buzz cut, but I look totally weird with short hair, so really my options are all one length or layers. I’m pretty easy to deal with at the salon.

I don’t like dealing with the small talk that happens at the salon. What are you supposed to say to the stylist who’s all up in your personal space? And it’s awkward if you talk and it’s awkward if you don’t so really, it’s just totally awkward.

Here’s me at the salon:

Me: Can you cut this?

Stylist: What kind of style were you thinking?

Me: Meh. I don’t care.

Stylist: Um…you don’t…I don’t understand…

Me: I don’t want to spend time styling it. So cut it to my shoulders, so I don’t have to come back here for another year. You can put in layers if you want. Or don’t. Surprise me.

Stylist: This is…um…what if you hate it?

Me: I always hate it. I can’t imagine I could hate it worse once you make it shorter.

Stylist: We could do bangs?

Me: I have three cowlicks. And my hair’s got about as much body as an abandoned morgue. Bangs are a no-go, sis.

Stylist: So…

Me: Cut. To shoulder-length. Layers. Or no layers. Your call.

Stylist: Your lack of interest in this is truly befuddling. Are you sure you’re female?

Me: Not always, no.

So! Haircut! Shorter! Layers or no layers! I DO NOT CARE! But seriously, shit’s got to get done sometime. It’s been ten months since I last got a haircut. Who goes ten months without getting a haircut? I’m totally broken, haircut-wise. Oh, also I totally go to the cheap place for a haircut. Not a real salon. Why would I go to the real salon? I’d be embarrassed to tell someone who does this professionally and takes it seriously that I just don’t care. Like, I care about the fate of monkeys more than I care about my haircut. And I DETEST monkeys.

Alright. Since I started writing this, I’ve gotten FIVE MORE PROJECTS and the PHONES WON’T STOP RINGING and for some reason UPS dropped off a gajillion boxes and everyone who walks by is all WHAT ARE THESE WHY ARE THEY HERE and hell if I know, I’m just the fill-in receptionist, do you see my name on them? No you do not, Questiony Sam, but if one more person asks I’m going to say that I have an online shopping problem and see how long it takes the office game of telephone to get that shit spread around like wildfire.

Happy days, people! Wish me all the luck! There’s a bottle of magic wine with my name on it waiting for me in my fridge if I survive today!

About lucysfootball

I'm not the girl with the most cake. Someday. SOMEDAY. View all posts by lucysfootball

37 responses to “Losing my mind, getting my hair did, must be Thursday.

  • Andreas Heinakroon

    Good luck!

    (I can’t remember which year I last got my hair cut, but I’m pretty sure it was this century. Yes.. Pretty sure.)


  • Rich Crete

    Wow. Do girls make other girls turn in their “girl cards” like guys do to each other? (You know for offenses like not liking beer, sports or lesbians…or acting like a little bitch on those lame commercials) Cause you sound like me getting my hair cut.
    Them: “How do you want it?”
    Me: “Like I give a rat’s ass. Just don’t put any shit in it. Got it? Cut it. No ‘product’. And I gotta split in like 6 minutes.”


    • lucysfootball

      I don’t know if girls really do that or not. My friends don’t, only because they know that’s just my hair, and I don’t care about it. I mean, it’s clean, and for the most part sort of brushed, so I’m not a total embarrassment to take places. At least not about my hair.

      I AM like a guy about haircuts! I somehow missed out on the caring-about-pretty-hair gene. Or got it beaten out of me the 43 billionth time my hair refused to comply with whatever I wanted it to do. I gave up. Why bother fighting something that’s obviously a losing battle?


  • Omnibus

    *spooky voice* Bewa-a-a-are the hau-au-aunted ba-a-a-a-athrooooooom!!!


  • Omnibus

    The minus doesn’t work on your calculator? Does the plus work? Yes. Well, that’s a plus! :)


    • lucysfootball

      See? These things are comedy GOLD. Ugh, why don’t they get this totally good humor at my office? BTW, I told my father the “positive” joke and he agreed it was awesome. However, he’s a little biased in thinking everything I do is awesome, so I suppose I shouldn’t take that too seriously.


  • Omnibus

    You should totally get a mullet! :)


  • lahikmajoe

    I didn’t want to say anything about your mullet until the dirty deed was done.

    Now that I’ve seen the finished product, I’m forced to admit-that’s the nicest mullet I’ve ever seen.


    • lucysfootball

      Aw, thanks! It’s the non-mullet mullet. It’s the result of me saying, “Shoulder-length, layers if you want,” and her hearing it as “Chin-length, layers are a must,” I guess. I don’t hate it. And it’ll grow out. I mean, I have a year until I get the next haircut, I suppose – plenty of time for it to grow out, all unruly-like.


  • Domestic Goddess in Training

    My best friend owns a salon and does my hair so I think I am pretty lucky… but this post reminds me of conversations we have. One time she asked me what I wanted to do and I said keep it around shoulder length and she asked if I had any other ideas and I told her “I don’t really care… it is just going to go up into a ponytail anyways.” She was not very happy with that answer.


  • elaine4queen

    i loathe the hairdresser talk with a passion. this has tended to mean that i have paid over the odds for hairdos, because in really trendy salons you get less of it. or, at any rate, i had a boy who told me all about his fanciful dreams for a while, then he moved salons and i grew my hair. when i was next ready for a chop i went to another place too cool for holiday talk, and got a great cut from a silent german. i went back to him a few times. recently, i was too broke to pay up, and he’d moved on anyway, so i went to the CHEAP AS CHIPS russians round the corner. this turned out to be a good move, because they don’t really speak english in there. they also do hairdos that barbara streisand sported in the 70s, but after i washed the gunk out the haircut looked like something you would pay top dollar for in the trendy salons. i was well pleased.
    now that i have moved to the arse end of nowhere i have no idea where my next haircut is coming from. this worries me a bit, but since no one needs to see me except ten and poppet (dog) and neither of them seem to care i am leaving the issue on hold for the foreseeable future.
    the end.


    • lucysfootball

      The one I got was bound and determined to chat, and to get me to chat as well. She kept trying to show me things, too. And she’d had me take my glasses off at the beginning of the haircut, and I’m blind without them. I CAN’T SEE WHAT YOU’RE SHOWING ME, LADY. I learned: that she hates country music, what an anchor piercing is (GOOD GRACIOUS OUCH), that her boss thinks taking out garbage is man’s work (can he come over and take out mine, then?) and that the deli next door is run by Polish people, “but they’re still really nice.” So, really, I learned a LOT.


  • kitchenmudge

    …and you had time to write this?


  • lgalaviz

    Is it snowing there? I heard there was snow. Did you see the snow?


  • lgalaviz

    My Thursday sucked too. Hope this isn’t going to be a trend.


  • renni

    I have one word for you: Flowbee.


  • Unconfirmed Bachelorette

    Recently I discovered that “dry wash” spray. I can go over a week without washing my hair. Get out of bed, quick shower, spray on some dry wash, scrunch it, a little make-up, done. “Dry wash” has changed my life. And allowed me to sleep longer.


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