I slept in today, and called upon a trusty ponytail to get me through the first two classes of the day-feeling alright for five hours of sleep but a bit...homelier than usual.
After a dose of cuanto cuesta and que pagaste fried the brain beside my slimy ponytail, I was walking home down University Avenue when a sudden, overwhelming, positively uncontrollable urge to cut my hair hit me like a ton of bricks. I physically could not wait another minute! The fates aligned, and the Metropolitan Salon appeared before my ecstatic eyes.
A mere 40 minutes and 30 bucks later, I'm a new woman.
How does chopping off some dead protein hold the power to make me feel so freaking good? I'll do things I never thought possible before, say things I would have kept to myself. I'll do whatever I want with my newfound freedom! Freshly A-lined bob swinging, I can single-handedly solve world hunger-or possibly just my Spanish homework.