I coloured my grandmother's hair tonight. It was the first time I've ever done somebody's hair, and it has taught me a valuable lesson: I do not want to be a hairdresser.
I mean, not that it was ever a real danger, that I'd accidentally trip and fall into a hairdresser job. You need to go to a special school for that shit and everything, so I knew it wasn't just some easy minimum-wage thing. And I certainly didn't learn anything about fancy hair stuff in college when I studied carpentry (well, I learned something) but dang, that stuff is annoying. And I did it for less than an hour this evening. Imagine how tedious it would be doing it all day every day?
I'm sure that hairdressers have a passion for their stuff and all, but between the smell of the hair dye, the awkward conversation, and the discomfort of having to bend over and try to get her hair into proper light so I can see what was and was not dyed, man do I not want to do it any more. I mean, I'm sure I'll end up doing it anyway next time her grey hairs start to show, but between now and then I would like to spend absolutely zero time doing anybody's hair. Even my own. I am just haired out.
(tl;dr i was too lazy to get up and find a comb today so i'm blaming my grandmother's hair dye IT'S A FOOLPROOF PLAN NO ONE WILL SUSPECT A THING unless i tell them in a tl;dr oops)