Long Story Short . . .

My hair has gotten out of control. Think I'm kidding?

I give you Exhibit A, as rad-ified by Instagram:

Yes, there is a clip in my mouth and no, I don't know why I'm throwing some serious shade at the soap dispenser.

And because you weren't totally positive I took these in the courtroom's bathroom, Exhibit B:

Cradling invisible produce.

And just for reference's sake, I'm 5'1", 5'2" on a good day. Now normally having long hair doesn't bother me too terribly much - I've never had short hair, and my version of an "adventurous" hair cut was getting bangs a few years back (which looked cute for about 10 minutes, or until I realized there was no way I could style them like the hairdresser) but with interview season looming on the horizon and temperatures in the DC area reaching the 100s, I'm starting to realize I am in desperate need of a haircut.

Thus begins the neverending struggle between me, myself, and those I force to listen to me and myself argue. In my mind, I'm stylish and edgy enough to pull off a hair cut/color like this:

Image via A Cup of Jo.

But then I remember that I'm a goofy kid with an absolute inability to commit to serious change and go with a trim and some highlights. Such is the life of the indecisive . . . If it's all the same, though, I wish my hair would look like this, because it's pretty awesome. Maybe some day when I have a real people job and I'm not so scared of drastic changes.

As a complete aside: what does it say about you when your spam mail has subject headings like, "Be A Teacher?" What cite was I looking at that determined I should be investing in more education? Spam indeed.