. . . The next day. Well, I slept in curlers and used enough hairspray this morning to chisel a hole in the ozone layer directly over my apartment. Hair looks great! And if any crazy people hit me on the head with a brick today, it will bounce harmlessly off.
All I can say is ‘Bald is Beautiful, Baby’! Although it is more work than I had anticipated. Shaving is pain. And you have to do it everyday. 
I only shave once a week, spooje. And Eve, I never have a bad hair day:
I’m the one on the right.
Join us, Eve. Joooiiinnnn us!
Yeah, I guess that didn’t sound so nice, huh? Well, she was awfully sweet, but I like my hair sort of choppy and piecy, you know, not quite layered, but a few shorter bits here and there to give some texture. Most places have special scissors for this kind of thing, or even little techniques. It’s nothing really fancy, but when I showed her the picture and tried to explain it, she started laughing the cutest “No, you’re kidding me, oh my” laugh. And I told her to just give it a go, and she didn’t do half bad. I think she actually thought it was fun. She’s just used to giving older women perms and stuff. I don’t blame her. I could have left, I just didn’t want to insult her. I’ve defintely gotten worse cuts. Maybe I’m just having a bad hair week despite her cut. 
That’s not something you say to someone who’s been having a bad-hair decade.
…Or more like a bad hair-life, now that i think about it. Hrm.
I have solved this problem… by turning every day into a bad hair day.
I used to look at people with unstyled, boring, abysmal, same-every-day hair and think “For god’s sake, don’t they care? Don’t they know how much better they’d look if they’d put some effort into it?” And I’d go on trying to put some effort into my own wretched tresses, not usually succeeding, suffering many a bad hair day and living in fear of humidity, rain, wind, or weather so cold it necessitated a style-crushing hat.
Then I stopped. I have become one of those people with lank, unstyled, abysmal, same-every-day hair that used to so horrify me. Oh yeah, it’s bad. But hey, I’m finally used to the perpetual bad hair nightmare.