Chop Chop 

I shut my laptop off just after midnight this morning having got most of the stuff I wanted to get down on paper finished.

It was as satisfying to fall asleep immediately as it was annoying to wake up at six, but with the essay almost finished, it must have been scratching away at the back of my head and woken me up. After walking the dogs, I opened the laptop again and knocked out another couple of paragraphs which made me happy.

It is now simply a matter of tidying up the intro and conclusion, popping in some facts and figures which I have highlighted in my printouts, rearranging some paragraphs or groups of paragraphs in order to make the argument flow logically, and getting rid of about 700 words. I should be able to do that without too much drama tomorrow.

I felt so pleased with my progress, I decided to allow myself the treat of going to see Arrival at the 1pm showing but had a window of time to zip out and get some shopping down beforehand. I took a list, which is just as well because when I got home, my husband had only just woken up. He had gone back to bed for a snooze and overslept. I ended up giving him a lift into work and by the time I pulled up into the carpark, it was 1.05pm.

Not to worry, I told myself, these films never start on time. Then I went in through the sliding doors and was confronted with a bulging snake of a queue – I suspect the fault of the new Harry Potter spin off. My heart sank. I joined it, but then noticed an almost non-existent line just to the left. “Tickets only” it said. The one I was in was for “Tickets and Candy Bar.’

I have never actually sat through a movie without a bucket of Diet Coke, but if there was one day to try the experience, it was today. I headed straight to the counter, bought my ticket and sat in a fairly full auditorium of people rustling food wrappers and slurping drinks just in time for the final trailer and the start of the film.

I loved the film, but that is not important right now. What was important was my hair. The film finished just after 3.30pm and my plan – my insane plan, was also to try and get my hair cut as well – even though I was not sure what time the salon closed. I knew it was early on a Sunday, just not sure how early.

As I headed up the road from the cinema, I spotted a cheap chemist chain that sells my mum’s vitamin D. She had asked me to pick her some up. Well, I might as well make this race against the clock interesting, I thought and swung the car into a bay.

I got to the hairdressers fifteen minutes later and they were still open and a nice lady spent about ten minutes and removed about five inches of dry tatty hair. I am now back with a bob and feeling a lot better, firstly for having short hair again and secondly for not having done it myself.

I popped into the shop next door and picked up a sat few items that I needed and then headed home, a head full of film and a head less a lot of hair. It had been a busy but successful afternoon.

The dogs were waiting for me when I got in. They didn’t say anything but I could tell from Lucy’s face that she thought I was late taking them for their afternoon walk.

I didn’t argue, just grabbed their leads  and headed out to the car again. When you are on a roll, you have just got to keep moving with it, I guess.


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