In the middle of the night, I wake with it twisted around my throat like a noose, or tucked into my mouth, or caught in my earrings. By day it whips into crazy tangles unless I braid it, knot it, or bun it. Throughout the winter it snaps with static and makes wearing hoods impossible. Socks fresh out of the dryer have long strands twisted nightmarishly through the fibers between the toes. My hair is everywhere, and it's annoying. I don't think I was cut out for these long locks. Pretty soon I'll be in a place where I can have an affordable haircut, and I'm afraid this mane of mine will just have to go. If I have the guts to get it chopped once I'm in the salon chair, that is. To this end, I thought I'd take a trip down hair-memory lane.
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; the courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to cut my hair when I have the chance!