A Mullet Massacre

I used to have a really good barber, really sound guy. Then he left.

I thought I’d keep going to the same barber shop, last time I went (still £35), had an unconvincing hair cut and a very quiet one too (if I’m going to be there 45 minutes then at least say more than hello). Booked with someone else this time, again at the same barber shop.

After 15 minutes I realised that he was doing very little other than combing my hair. He realised that I had realised then stated that he was thinking about what to do. I did suggest that he could have some artistic licence – then I saw that rather large chunks of long hair were being cut.

I said, “that’s a scary amount of hair that you are cutting”. I didn’t get much response.

Apparently he was “adding texture”. By removing about two thirds of my hair. For £35. And didn’t even offer me a beer when I sat down.

I’m not quite mortified, I appreciate that I should perhaps have been stricter with my criteria (though way more was cut off the length than I wanted) so I guess it is my fault.

But I really don’t like it. It looks shit. Maybe you are sat there thinking, “yeah, mate, your hair has looked shit for years”. Though now it’s like I’m fucking bald. I am so disappointed with it.

It has been a bit of a shit week. You know, I’ve been meaning to blog a general life update for a while, but nowadays (and probably always in the past) I’m only really motivated to write when something pisses me off, and I’m really surprised about how happy I have been this year and how good I feel life is.

This week, however, I could just not get into. Monday started with a half-hangover and a 45 minute delay on the Met line, and I just lost motivation. I’ve been on an eating binge, 4,000 – 5,000 calories every day since last Friday and I feel shit and demotivated. I think I will snap myself out of it tomorrow, but I just didn’t have the mental capacity to do so this week.

I really need a rest. I think I have had 2 days holiday this year. It might have been last August when I last had a whole week off.

Also tonight the amount of people in my way. The person sat next to me on the tube who thought my arm made a good bag rest. The people who don’t get their card out before getting to the ticket barrier. I keep meaning to make an website called “tube wanker” where you collect points for every annoying fucker you encounter, and I would have had a full set today. Bar those standing on the left side of the escalator because I didn’t use an escalator tonight. Fucking hell I have so little hair. Yeah, I know, there are people with no hair.

Life is good, though, despite my hair and having put on all the weight I lost since Christmas (I probably have no more than a year to sort my weight out before I have serious health issues, I know this).

I start a new job on 1st July. You know this already. It feels really weird to be leaving Lovespace and I am pretty sad about it. My head is going to be totally focused on this for a while – I think July I will totally cut out the booze, unless for work social reasons on a Friday night. Alcohol causes over-eating which causes a loss in concentration and productivity. I have to do everything within my power to ensure that I am a success. The idea that it might not work out is not implausible, it is a jump up, the standards expected will be higher. I’m pretty sure that I will be successful, but there are no guarantees.

Next Thursday is my last day at Lovespace. I don’t think I’ve ever worked for a company that I care about. It might be a bit emosh. Though I’ll never have to go to Luton again.

Then I’m going to Belgrade. It’s in Serbia. It’s the place we bombed in the 90’s. That is pretty exciting, except for the 5:55am flight. From Luton.

I will go to a couple more places later this year, though I’ll only have 10 days of holiday to play with – and 2 are already taken. Where is my hair? #SAD.

I also have tickets to two separate days at The Ashes (cricket, to any foreigner reading). One in Manchester, the other at Lords – both day 4 so will need to kind of hope for a full day’s play – unlike last year where I had day 4 tickets and saw just over an hour.

What else? My parents are coming down one Sunday – just for a Sunday roast. Then getting the train back to Hull. I guess we’ll do an exhibition too, maybe I’ll take them to the summer exhibition at the RA. I really want to do the AI exhibition at Barbican too. What the fuck has he done to my hair? I will get a photo on Facebook soon.

Bought a Love Island scratchcard and a bottle of wine for consolation. I think I might go buy some shit chicken from Chicken Cottage.

If anyone knows a really good barber in London, let me know.

I know, it will grow back. And boy, it will be growing.

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