Touchdown!

Wow. Still haven't slept since Thursday night.

The short story: Suzuki professional development, a Sarah Blasko concert at The Forum theatre with friends, Copocabana, Night Cat and some other place I can't remember the name of. Then a dropoff in Chaddy and back to the airport to collect hubs from his American sojourn pt.1.

Somewhere in there I decided attempting sleep was futile. However, thank you Adam for your kind loan of a horizontal surface upon which to lay my weary head and "gorgeous haircut". I hope you find a girl who wears red sinner lipstick with conviction. You deserve one who dances much better than me ;)

I have learnt that it's quite difficult to convince people you are in fact married when wearing neither engagement ring or wedding band. In fact, this absence can give rise to gentle and discreet discussion among friends, as they tactfully allude to my naked fingers and hubs' absenteeism.

When convincing a stranger, wedding photos are a useful proof of assertion unless... "That's not you! Look at the hair on that girl!" (presently a short, dark bob with a heavy blunt fringe). Sigh.
Yes, females do tend to change their hairstyle occasionally. It's this strange belief we subscribe to which causes us to seek a new color, shape, style, image, identity. Cheaper than buying a new wardrobe, a lot cheaper than plastic surgery. Many of us will even save the psychiatrist fee that week.

Our new haircut lets us pretend we're not committed to our jobs, lifestyles, partners, family - our life. Instead we can pretend a little- to be a high maintenance ice queen or a calm, composed woman of the world. And is it really pretend or a very complex double bluff? Good luck working it out.

How the hell did this post become a muse on appearance and identity?

ANd then the wheels fell off...

I think I've inadvertently poisoned myself by consuming too much wheat today. You know those days where you just feel BLEAUGH and then realise the state of BLEAUGHness has actually been accumulating over the past week or so? Flight anxiety, diet change, nowhere near enough sleep...so this weekend is very boring and recuperative.

Also, spent about 4 hours on the phone yesterday morning pep-talking parents into calling a teacher NOT me (I'm full, sorree!) and doing Suzuki-counselling. I'm allergic to the phone. Would much rather text/email/meet up in person. Maybe that's the REAL source of my malaise.

And... My darling husband finally succumbed to the delightful bronchial plague I've been carrying about for the last month and so the two of us are holed up watching West Wing. The pug couldn't be happier with all the quality lap time. Had many more coherent and sensible thoughts while driving home from ballet but alas they have succumbed to brainfog...perhaps in the light of a Sunday breakfast they will resurface.