My Inner Goddess Is A Long Way From The Surface

I have been to the hairdressers today. I love going to the hairdressers. It is a good, positive, life-affirming experience. Mainly. Last time I went, I was very badly hungover. I slumped in the chair, and when my lovely hairdresser asked me what did I want today, I mumbled at him, made vague cutting gestures all over my head, and declared that the colour I was intent on trying out was 'Brown. No, darker. Darker. Darker. Less redder. Yeah, that one'.

Not today though. No hangover for me today. Not even from cough medicine. Take it from me, when you buy cheap cough medicine that doesn't come with a measuring spoon, JUST USE A DAMN TEASPOON. Don't, whatever you do, assume that 5ml is roughly equivalent to a large mouthful, straight from the bottle. Don't then look at the instructions, and realise that you have to take 2 of the 5ml spoonfuls, so that must be 2 large mouthfuls. Whatever you do, don't repeat that dose 4 times a day. If you do, you will end up with an empty bottle, and a raging headache. I'm just saying.

I arrive at the hairdressers bang on time, to find the lovely Sean waiting for me. A very sweet girl shampoos my hair very gently, then massages conditioner into my hair. Bliss! No colour for me today. I'm still brown, and unless you part my hair with your fingers in a nit-seeking expedition, you will barely get a glimmer of grey. Sean asks me what do I want today. I proudly produce my magazine and show him the picture. I then explain that I want it cut into the neck, with a little wispy fringe, quite long still at the sides. I realise this is not much like the picture that I have shown him, but he understands. The woman in the picture has the right shade of brown though. I need to remember that for next time. He starts trimming away, oh so gently, caressing my hair with his beautiful hands. I close my eyes, and leave him to his magic. I let my mind wander, thinking about what I still have to do today, thinking about the really funny blogs I read yesterday, thinking about the road trip with Swearing Mother, thinking about how I must tell Belle that her mum's jam is delicious and the only jam my son will eat, thinking about going away for a break, thinking about ...

'Is that OK on the fringe for you Tina?'

Beg pardon? Did someone say something? Where am I? I open my eyes, just a little, and see Sean, waiting for the confirmation on my fringe. I have fallen asleep. I AM ASLEEP IN THE HAIRDRESSERS! Have I been talking? It is not unheard of. Sometimes I chew when I'm asleep. (Don't even ask). What if I drooled? I check my face for wet patches, but it looks OK.

'That's lovely Sean, thank you'.

When he finishes, I look like a goddess. Well at least my hair looks like that of a goddess. My face, maybe less so. Unless we are getting into the realms of Gorgons. But today, I'm not very goddess-like. You see, I fell over on the way to the hairdressers. It is not the first time I've fallen over. It's not even the first time in the last 2 months. I have a problem with gravity - it pulls me to the floor harder than other people. There were no excuses. Or at least none I could think of. I'm a little scraped on the palm of my hand. My wrist is a bit sore. I'll probably have a bruise on my knee. And my left ankle is 3 times the size of the other one, and hurts like a holy swear word.

It's a good job I had my high heeled boots on, that's all I can say. If I hadn't had them on, there would have been no support for my poor ankle after I'd fallen.

Don't even say they were to blame.

Don't even think it.