Still can't get used to my image in the mirror. Never considered myself the sort of girl who tied her femininity to her long hair but I actually felt a few moments of terror and regret when half my hair was still long and the other side chopped up. Sometimes, when I catch my reflection, I feel kind of distressed. Like I can't identify myself with that hair, like it's not the me I want to portray, not the me who's inside. Oh well, thank goodness hair grows. And it's not like it looks BAD, it's just... not quite me. Not that I don't like it, I just feel like I'm giving people the wrong impression of who I am. Maybe because I look older. Boo.
So much analysis over a haircut.
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Planning a holiday takes effort. You've got to get yourself pumped up and enthusiastic to go. You've got to imagine all the fun you could have, and erase all potential problems like boredom, incompatibility, fights, setbacks, delays, etc. And you've got to book ahead, and book smart and cheap so you don't come home feeling cheated and depressed over all the unnecessary money you spent. And most importantly, you've got to choose your company wisely.
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Gone are the days where my mind was a blank canvas, waiting for the real world to happen. Where my fantasies all came from foreign books and I imagined myself traveling, having adventures, falling head over heels in love and doing things the women in the novels did. What I would give to find, and not search anymore. To be filled and not feel empty. To be content and not pine for the past. So much for my happy ending.
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