Bad-Worst-Normal hair day.

I had been having bad hair day(s) so I asked my mom to trim my tresses for me. It’s a mother-daughter thing; my mom usually trims my hair. Unfortunately for me, I didn’t notice that my mom was all grumpy today and armed with the scissors she began chopping. Once it was over, trust me I probably should have taken a snap, my hair looked like a rat had chewed on it and my mom had cut it sooooo short… it now is only up to my shoulders. Damn even the boys are going to give me a complex now. So my bad hair day escalated to being the worst hair day. Armed with a scarf I sat on my activa and rushed to the nearest parlor which is like 8 kilometers away from where I live. I cried my woes out to the lady, who calmed me down and promised not to shorten the remains of my crown any further. Once she was done my hair-do looks presentable and nice. (Yes nice) After what happened, I thought I’d never ever have a good hair day ever again. Well now I at least have a normal hair day! ( Moral of the story, make sure the hand that holds the scissors is the one that has no worries of the world)

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