I cut my hair.
I let him get the best of me, and I cut my hair.
How short, you ask? Well, let’s just say, I cried.
Skye and Fern haven’t seen it yet, but . . .
I’m afraid at what they’re going to say. Things were going so well. They didn’t ask, and I didn’t tell, but I feel that this may be crossing that line of casual uninforming.
It is so short.