Recluse

written: May 27th

Photo for the day:



I’m trying to get a photo that captures just how long my hair currently is. In this photo I have it pulled back into a high ponytail, and even draping it over my shoulder it still hits me about waist level. If I leave it down, it brushes my butt crack – and yes, that means I have to make sure to move it out of the way before going poo. ::laughs:: Eh, I don’t feel like this photo does it justice though. I guess I’ll just have to get Tracy (the hair stylist) to take a before and after photo of my hair. I’m planning to cut 4 to 5 inches off before bleaching and purpling (is that a word? Well it is now!) 3 to 4 inches. Only a few more days!

The Hubs and I stayed in and completely vegged the fuck out today. It was SO nice. We even took a nap. I know, what wild people we are! ::laughs:: But seriously, I am so grateful for a low-key day.

I swear, the older I get, the worse my introversion and my social anxiety get. The older I get, the less willing I am to “play nice” and tolerate other people’s innate bullshit. I crave more solitude, deeper connections, but with less people. ::chuckles:: I can see myself totally becoming a recluse in my old age. Just me and David sitting on the porch, screaming about kids on our lawn. ::dies laughing:: Maybe I’ll also be a nudist at that point. ::grins toothily:: That’ll keep ‘em away from my home.