Monday, January 03, 2011

Four Tenths Of A Mile

That's all. Just 4/10s of a mile each way to go from my parent's house to Thompson Square. And I am completely wiped out!

I wasn't trying to overbook, and I had a back up plan. I figured I would walk down to the CVS, drop off my prescription to be filled.....and then, have my hair chopped off.

I have HAD IT with this hair. Every morning (& to be honest sometimes afternoon) when I make my bed, I have to take masking tape and wipe the pillow case and sheet clear of all the hair. Every morning. Then I shower and have to dredge of another fistful of hair from the drain. Next I have to masking tape my clothes.

So I is the day. I am cutting it all off.

I told my mother and she tried to get me to choose a less radical option. That's actually pretty funny since she was always making Grace and I get "pixie" haircuts. Or what our aunt Helen would refer to as "Genevieve" (complete with fake French accent) haircuts. But my mind was made up, I was cutting it all off.

So after lunch - shells, homemade meatballs, italian bread, thanks Dad - I bundle up and head off up Elm. Two plus blocks later I turn onto High and then down Woods. I am in Thompson Square. I drop off the script and head for the Fantastic Sams two doors down. It's gone. LOL! Does this mean I should heed my mother? Should I rethink the haircut?

I got a cup of tea from DD and I sit on a bench in the weak winter sunshine outside the bank. There are other hair salons in Charlestown. I am thinking of the walk back. I can at any point call my Dad...or my uncle....or Chrissie....or T.....or a bunch of people for a ride. I have a safety net. Maybe I will walk to Salon 44....after all I had my hair cut there 30 years ago.

I pulled my cell out of my pocket to see if they are open and see a missed call. It's my company's accountant. He has left a message for me to call back on the business line, so this is not a social call. He puts me on speaker when the receptionist connects me. there are four people asking me questions and they can't hear my answers because I am outside. So I step into the nearby bank vestibule and stand for 25 minutes talking to them, then the office, then NEMED, then the original party again.

Once they are done with me, I go pick up my script and head home. I walk up Woods Street and try not to think of how many times I ran up this minor hill that I can barely walk.

The hell with my hair. Everything on me hurts.


SCOTTtheBADGER said...

Just a note to let you know that you are being thought of. Hang tough, kiddo, we 1961 Models have to take care of the rest of the world, and we need all of us to do it.

Anonymous said...


BostonMaggie said...

Love you too, Scott! Someday I am coming to Badger-land and you are going to make me skunk cookies.

Anonymous - Frankie? Is that you? LOL! No, I knew Umberto's was gone.