Thursday, March 1, 2012


Seen waiting for the Red Line to Howard at the Fullerton Station at about 8:15 a.m. 

I can see them staring at me. More specifically, staring at my godawful hair. I asked for red—a nice, tasteful-yet-fun-loving red. And what did I get? Fire engine. Raggedy Ann. Bozo the Clown. Leprechaun. Maybe that’s what I’ll tell people. I’ll casually laugh it off: “Oh, haha, I’m just gearing up for a great St. Patrick’s Day!” Oh God. This is torture. Not just for me; I feel like I’m assaulting everyone else’s eyeballs. Is there anywhere near the office I can buy a scarf? First Google search when I get into work today: “Best hair salon in Chicago.” 

Drabble on purpose today. It was almost 100 words, so I added a few more to reach the drabble level. On a literary note, the Association of Writers & Writing Programs conference is in Chicago this weekend, which means there are a whole bunch of fun, literary off-site activities around the city. You should go to them.

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