Oh nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo............

How could I be so stupid? I broke all my own rules. I am Not Thinking Clearly. I am a Bear of Very Little Brain. I have a love hate relationship with my hair (ok, all those who don't want to read shallow blogs about hair or shoes etc turn away now), I think most women do. I don't like it short. I like it long. I always used to have it long. These days, being of a certain age, I have it shorter, but I still like the feeling of having hair to flop over my face. (Why? Sorry, this is not a therapy session.)

It had got long, a bit thick, out of shape and was dominating my face. Well, all of me. An out of control bob which had gone a bit bushy. Some days I liked it. I made an appointment two weeks ago for a cut, but had such a bad day, the Saturday I kind of collapsed, I had to ring and cancel. I was in no fit state.

So I have left it. I have not been at my best this week, still fighting depression, and made a decision this was not the time to deal with my hair. But I had this big dinner last night - an Investors in People Award dinner where I was going to be presented with our award for winning IIP status last year. Smart event. Networking with Important People. Talking to people. Going up to get one's award in front of everyone. Now most of you know that would not phase me one bit. I thrive on such things. But when you are so fat you can't get into any of your smart clothes, you are feeling so low that you don't want to speak to anyone on the planet....(well, not quite true...aye there's the rub) and in the morning your hair looks a mess.....

So yes, I broke my rules. a. Had my hair cut three hours before going out to an Event. My rule is three days minimum to get used to a new cut. b. Was so desperate went accepted an appointment from someone I didn't know. A stylist. Not even a senior stylist. I did ask, does she cut well. And they said yes, so that was ok. Dur.....

So in I went. Don't take anything or not much off the front, please trim the back into shape and layer it slightly. Yes, she said. As she stared cutting, I said, how much are you taking off the back? She showed an inch or so between finger and thumb. OK I said. I stared into the mirror as she was cutting and sad, empty eyes stared back. A young girl with very, very, long thick dark hair was having a trim next to me, long bouncy layers which curled around her face and shoulders and down her back. Young. Pretty. Long hair. I closed my eyes.

When I opened them I flinched. Where had my hair gone? The sides. Layered and shorn. The back, layered and short. 'I have no hair left,' I said, clutching at the sides. 'How short do you like your fringe?' she said, approaching with the scissors. 'I like it left very long' I said, moving away. They all looked at me, these trendy young hairdressers, smiling, as I paid, stony faced willing myself not to cry in front of them.

I go home and look in the mirror. The tears started..I was going for the full upset. But wait...you have a Dinner to go to in one hour. You can go looking as ok as possible, with horrible hair wearing - what?? or you can go with horrible hair and red puffy eyes..which is it to be?

So I busied, ironing things, trying on things, (how smart will other people be? Will everyone be in suits? I'm too fat for my suits..) I found an outfit I was happy with. I did good makeup. I found a chunky trendy necklace. I looked in the mirror and thought..you'll be ok.

Funnily enough I had a good evening - I felt lighter, different. Not weighed down by hair. Mark said it looked nice. (My Chair.)

I drove home full of nice dinner, I even had my photograph taken for publicity - boy I am going to hate that appearing - but I did it, accepted my award - a small silver clock for my desk - and drove home.

I put my head round Clive's door, he was reading in bed. He never, ever notices my hair cuts or colour. Oh, he said, you've had your hair cut short. I don't like the whispy bits at the front. Then, after a pause, Actually I like it. It's different. Your face looks better.

So that's ok then. I have just got up and washed and blow dried it read to go to work. What does it look like? Dreadful! I am going to buy colour today and make it different again..why not?

I know, there are wars on, people starving, people dying. It's only hair. It will grow. I know. Sorry to blog on about it. But it's a tiny, weeny bit important to me..........