Hair and Patience

Another Sunday, deciding whether or not to work. It is gloomy outside; I wish the sun would return so I could go to the beach.

I've noticed since I've returned from France that my hair has grown, but I don't know how much and since when. But I am happy to see it. I've often wished I could have that hair that goes all the way down to my butt, but never had the patience to wait for it. So I cut it instead. The old adage of cutting hair to make it grow: myth. Anyway, for now I'm having to settle for hair that reaches to just above my breasts; hopefully they will be covered before too long. This is the moment (or many moments) of truth: will I have the patience to let it keep going, or will I grow frustrated and cut it back down to just below my ears in a flurry of the "I'll show you who's boss" attitude?