sliding blues...

so far.. in all the years of working, i've always had friday evening blues.
for one, it was the day my content refreshes happened across circles. and i was dying to know how a certain piece was doing over the weekend.
secondly, i used to hate weekends. the only thing alluring about them was that I could possibly sleep in late over the next two days. but if u've worked where i did/do... you'd know that's quite a remote possibility. in all probability, there will be some client working, who'll want to discuss fortnightly plans on a saturday morning.

so i'd come to hate friday evenings. when i used to get back home from work and think of the impending weekend, i looked forward to monday mornings. and actually was excited on sunday evenings, that i had to go back to work the next day. i always used to wonder what it was about monday mornings that people hated *except monday morning meetings and mail-filled inboxes ;)* i had made myself believe that if u liked what u did enough, there would be no monday morning blues.

i still have them blues. but over time... and age, i guess... they've shifted. from friday to monday. i'm actually dreading the forthcoming week. the week is so busy that it seems to justify why i'm here.
has the passion for work dimmed? i sincerely doubt that. i don't think i'd be here if that were the case. and considering that i still categorize movies by "ours" and "crap", i have reason to believe that i'm still the same workaholic. and yes, i still love what i do.

but maybe, over the years, i've realized i need "me time". more than work needs me. also, i've had a fabulous weekend. and despite my current state of missing home desperately, i had fun. the last two days passed away in the blink of an eye. i have ticked off one item on my "to-do-in-10-years'" list. and now, i'm dreading monday. experiencing what is addressed by mortals as monday morning blues.
sigh.
how the mighty have fallen. or... have they?

the tale of the chopped hair.

the last time i went down to india, i wanted a new look. no, not plastic surgery. can't afford. also, shrink is higher on order of priorities. but well, i considered what i could do so that V goes "oh my god! that's not my wife" when he sees me at the airport. and umm... i meant in a GOOD way. okay?

okay. so i decided i HAD to get a hair cut. hair cuts for me, are no laughing matter. i hate them. honestly. i HATE anyone touching my hair. so hair cuts are done only when absolutely mandatory! which means, when i'm looking like a mangy cat and someone points it out to me. nicely.

so.. i'd been considering a hair cut. AND a different look. given time constraints, i thought let me merge both. so i decided to try out a "new" stylist. recco'ed by a family friend. who, btw, has really nice hair. in my excitement, i forgot that she always had nice hair. and that using fructis extra strong doesn't really let ur hair pull out logs. and using pantene's frizz control doesn't really control frizz. sigh!
so i called and fixed up an appointment.

so i reached. so i was entered into the really swanky "styling room". and sat upon a chair facing the mirror. now, let me tell u... my hair may look messy... but it still looks nicer when it's longer. the shorter it gets, the unrulier it gets. and the worse it looks.
i was approached by this rather gay-looking guy with WEIRD hair. now, this should have been my cue, right? if he has bad hair... i should worry for my own. no? no. coz i LOVED his shoes. and was staring at them. till i heard him say "so what would u like?" while trying to gauge the thickness of my hair. see.. now, i'd be really disturbed if this guy was NOT gay. coz i can't imagine letting anyone touch my hair. let alone a MAN! i'm rather touchy abt that!

and i said: "it's been like this forever. i want something different. but not too short. coz then it grows vertically on top of my head."

he: hmm... u don't cut them regularly do u? btw, what color IS this?
me: no, i don't. it's a l'oreal red with deeper red highlights. i know, it's a little screwed. can u make them look nice with the same color?
he: sure. proceeding to tell me what he'd do with them. all this while, i'm focussed on his locket. VERY sexy, really. was a net butterfly on a thin silver chain. sounds eww.. but looked DAMN hot.
so, obviously, i've not heard a word of what he said. and i go "as long as u're sure it won't scrunch up afterwards. okay?"
"hmm", he says. and starts off snip snipping. after what seemed like 20 minutes... he said "wait. don't look" like i'd dare!
i'm usually VERY obedient when it comes to situations like these. dunno why. i treat docs, stylists, drivers, teachers with a lot more respect than they sometimes deserve. i find it impossible to be rude to cabbies also. maybe that's why they like me so...
tch.. i digress again.
so, i didn't look.
he dunked some stuff on my head. and then started drying them. after about 10 minutes, he says "look. wonderful. isn't it?"
and i look up. and see HIM smiling contentedly. and me, with straight, short hair. and i turn to him and say "yeah. but what if i wash them?" then, with tears in my eyes say "what will this look like when they go back to normal? what have u done?! how'd they become straight?"
and with zen-like calm, he says "just use extra conditioner. u'll be fine."
S.I.G.H.

if only, my friend. if only.

and so it was. 2 days later, i washed them. and they scrunched up. despite half a bottle of conditioner. and i HAD to tie them up. with everything possible. and then, JUST before i left, i got them ironed out. *which is another story for another day* and well.. i DID achieve the effect i wanted when i reached home.
i guess all's well that ends well.
BUT, i'm not going back there! E.V.E.R.

if anyone's interested. my hair's okay now. as okay as it ever is. and of course, i look the same. again. SIGH!