Hair Cut

I cut my hair today. I did it myself in the mirror with a pair of kitchen scissors. I think the scissors are designed for cutting plastic bags open. Or maybe for cutting meat? I’m not really sure what kitchen scissors are used for but I generally use them for cutting paper…and hair. My hair was really long and when I put it in a bun it felt really heavy. It was too hot to wear down. It was itchy. It made my head sweat which gave me pimples on my neck. The bun was hard and I couldn’t lay down with it in. So I had to take it out. Then put it back in. The take it down again. If I put the bun on the top of my head it didn’t hurt as much. But people looked at me strange. But my hair was pretty. That’s the only thing that made me think twice about cutting my hair. I don’t know if I have any other physical qualities that are unique. Real show stoppers. At least, not like my hair. When I was younger my dad wouldn’t let me cut it. It was long and red and I guess he liked that. I wanted to make my dad happy. But I don’t care about making him happy anymore. I had a lot of split ends. You get split ends when you don’t take care of your hair. At least that’s what people who cut hair say. So I would always cut my hair myself. I hate when people lecture me. My head feels lighter now. And I don’t have to worry about putting it in a bun. I think it looks good. I hope it grows back.