Today I cut my hair.
I do this whenever I get a peculiar sort of restlessness that is only made better by doing something drastic and permanent.
The good news is I am getting better at this, having done it for, oh, gosh, about (counting fingers), well, ever since college.
The bad news is I am still not a professional.
BEFORE the fit of pique:
admittedly it is
and too long.
AFTER the fit of pique:
it's no longer
Right after cutting a few inches off my hair, I found the exact right words for the first three sentences for the picturebook I have been pouring my heart into for the past six weeks, PLUS a title.
Obviously, then, this strategy works.
But I have revisions for the Ellie McDoodle sequel due this summer.
And I am running out of hair.