I know it's time for a haircut when my mom has been haranguing me about it for about a month, and throwing it, still damp, into a ponytail before I go to work starts to seem acceptable. Happily, my delightful 19 year old sister has contracted a friend of hers to cut my hair today.

Fortunately this friend isn't some random 20 year old with grand aspirations and a pair of dull scissors just waiting to butcher a haircut. This friend went to haircutting school*, has been working for a while at an upscale salon, and gave my sister one of the best haircuts she's ever had, so I have faith in her abilities.


But.


I have guilt. Serious guilt.

I've been going to the same hairdresser for years. And by years I mean that I've been visiting her whenever my hair starts to look like an encounter with a weed whacker would do it some good since I was a child. This will be the first time ever I've had someone other than Belinda cut my hair. I feel like I'm betraying her, especially in this tricky economic time when it's more important than ever to keep loyal clients.

But this girl, Caroline's friend... she's coming to my house to cut my hair, which means I don't have to try to get off of work early. And, umm, haircutting house calls. How could I resist?

I may have trouble sleeping tonight, but I'll just keep repeating haircut house call, I'm saving gas money, haircut house call, I'm saving gas money...

Nope, not helping. Guilt. I have it.

*I actually have no idea where people go to school to learn how to cut hair. I guess it's not called "haircutting school", but you get my point. ^_^