Today I went on another resume handing out mission. It wasn't so bad, and everyone was super friendly, and I even found time to get my hair cut in between. I just hope that one of them will offer me a job! I'm not sure that it will be the last place I applied, as it was pretty windy at the time, and as I shut the door behind me, a huge gust picked up my newly light and bouncy hair, and threw it forward over my face. At this exact moment, the guy behind the bar said "can I help you love?" I was just standing there, staring at him from under my hair, looking like cousin it, or even the girl from the ring. I quickly tried to smooth myself out, smiled and went on as if nothing had happened. Classy.
At my hairdressers recommendation, I put a treatment in my hair when I got home. The instructions said to let it sit in my hair for 3-5 minutes, and then to rinse out in mid to cool water. For some reason I decided to rinse it out in my bathroom sink, which turned out to be a lot smaller than anticipated. After smacking my head on the tap multiple times, I decided that I might have more luck in the shower, but of course, got in and left all my clothes on, because I wasn't actually having a shower. I ended up sopping wet, staggering around with wet hair in my eyes, and I'm pretty sure the treatment still wasn't washed out properly. I'm not sure that this attempt at beauty was painful for anything but my pride.
Since drying myself off, I have cleaned my flat from top to bottom, written everything I can possibly plan into my diary, made my grocery list and started dinner, and have realised that I have nothing else to do. I guess I'll have to resort to my usual one sided banter with the TV, chastising its broadcast of songs with stupid lyrics, and the inaccuracies of particular scenes.
Sorry, I lied about not having anything to do, I forgot to tell you about the super exciting date I have planned with my pyjamas and TV later. It will probably even end in a jar of peanut butter. Bet you wish you were me.
Little Duck, out.
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