Shame on me...

...for thinking for one second that something would go right in this place.  Shame on me for giving this place any kind of credit for any minute section of time.  Shame on me for being an optimist at heart. 

I go into most situations thinking that everything is going to work out, even if it's not 100% the way I would like it to work out.  After 29 years, one would think I would get enough doses of the SHIT end of the stick to know that it's not always best to be polite or politically correct or to not curse at people in public.  It's not always best to NOT say what you're thinking.  It's not always best to assume that people who cut hair FOR A LIVING might have one ounce of skill at their profession.  AND finally, it's not always best to stay in the chair when the hair cut is not going very well. 

(If I had gotten up when I really wanted to leave, I would have left at the first fatal chop which left a huge razor-cut chunk out of the back of my hair.) 

Bottom line:   this place sucks.  There's not anything good about it (minus a few good days at the beach, and I could find good days at the beach somewhere else).  There's not one goddamn good thing about this hell hole of a place.  Not the beach, not the outlets, definitely not the food, not the living conditions, not the roads, not the grocery stores, not the salons that don't carry Aveda, not the non-existent knitting or fabric stores, not the weather, not the spare time, not the man-cave, not ANYTHING.  It all sucks.      

And I can't even get any goddamn knitting needles that I need for the one project I decided to start on a whim......  GOD! 

Saturday can't come soon enough.

Comments

[Betty]

Yikes!