Haircutting it close

Sorry about the bad, bad pun in the title. Actually, if I were really sorry, I would have avoided it instead of leaving it and adding a token apology. Hm.

I got a haircut today, which makes me happy. I had a specific look in mind, but I wasn’t sure it would look good on me. Turns out the hairstylist was able to read my mind and give me exactly what I wanted, and the style looks as good on me as I hoped it would. It’s about shoulder length with layers. I needed a haircut very badly, so I’m pleased.

Jon Boy and I joked a bit about how awkward it would be if I went into labor while at the hair salon. Turns out it’s not quite so funny when it might actually happen. I had some contractions on the way to the salon and briefly wondered if I should just turn around and cancel. But I really wanted the haircut, so I pressed on.

After the stylist had finished with the cut and was blow-drying volume into my limp hair, I began to have contractions closer and closer together. I wonder if she looked at my face as she was working. I hope not because if she had, what she would have seen might have made her think I hated the haircut. I was sitting there, not quite in pain but definitely uncomfortable, and wondering how on earth one goes about telling her hairstylist that she might be in labor and should probably leave.

In the end, I just asked if I could use the restroom. Luckily, walking around and relieving my bladder ended up slowing the contractions considerably, so I was able to finish getting my hair styled. I do wonder if today might be the day that I go into labor for real, though. Eep!

I think I’ll stay home the rest of the day, just in case.


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