So I had an appointment for a haircut yesterday at 4pm. I’m so organized, I put it on my iCal, set my alert for an hour ahead, I’m good to go. At 1:50 I check my calendar to make sure of the time, yep, it’s at 4pm, so on a whim I look at my text from my hairdresser, Rachel, because nobody actually calls for hair appointments these days, we just text, and it says Thursday 2PM. TWO PM!!!!! Oh no, oh crap, I’m in my grubby clothes, no makeup, hair a rats nest, cause I had washed it night before and let it go au naturel, which translates to a curly mess. So I quick text Rachel at 1:52 pm, tell her I will be there ASAP, I hotfoot it to the bedroom, throwing off clothes as I go, I jump into something presentable, smear some makeup base and eyeshadow on, clip up my hair and I’m off. Hubby takes me, he had errands to run anyway, and Rachel is just five minutes away from the house if you speed.
Well, he roars in there at 2:05PM. Yes, sports fans, 2:05! It was a sprint to the finish, and a record for yours truly. Except now LC will expect me to always be that fast...
Jeez oh pete, what a disaster. I know what happened, too, hubby had a haircut last week at 4PM, and my befuddled brain just wrote down the wrong time. Inspector Clueless here….
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