I just got back from a veritable war zone - babysitting for my neighbor's three boys (plus a puppy). This begs the question: why do people have kids, knowing that that's what they're in for? Sleepless nights, endless shrieking, always working...? Doesn't sound fun. I told her (upon her arrival home) that I'd probaby just get some cats or something. Kids, not so much.
She asked if I'd be back, and I smiled and said yes, of course I would - but if it were anyone but her, I don't think I would. It's not that her kids are bad; they youngest was just very, very energetic and awake (and young - not even 2). It's just not my cup of tea.
People say fate's a bitch, but so is the Queen of Bad Haircuts. Yes, I got my hair cut today. It's not bad per se, it's just shorter than I'd like. It's still long, but not as long as before (which tends to happen at haircuts). I have yet to experiment in all the ways my hair behaves... today was the hydrate/gel/scrunch routine (curly, but not really my type of curly - I like more loose, easy, natural curls nearing tendrilly waves; these were sort of gel-shiny and tight). LeRoy (my stylist)(hair cutter person, whatever) and I joked about getting my hair bleached blonde and permed into 80s hair; a pretty 30-something vehemently objected, not knowing we were only joking. "Don't let her do it!" she interjected from under the dryer.
Sooo yeah. That was my day. Super exciting. No run, no biking, no abs, no weights... a total fatty day. I had ice cream at lunch and some ranch chips while I was babysitting. Yumm.
Wore this Terminator-esque dress/jacket today. (Must admit, I wore sweats and a tank to get my hair cut. Yeah.)
OK, sleep now.