The Bad Hair Day, the Good Hair Day
The bad hair day
I had a breakfast meeting on Thursday at an open-air cafe, with the table that my client picked had a fan blowing from behind my seat.
My hair was supposed to be this "messy-ponytail-flared-bangs" that day. I don't even know what it means actually, but it was not easy to do, I tell ya. Little did I know you can simply have a "just-messy-do" in three seconds. Just sit in a cafe with your back facing its giant a** boat fan! So my hair was really having fun, flying all over the place. And there I was, trying to appear composed while feeling like hiding under the table at the same time.
The fun didn't stop there. Our food arrived.
I wished I could open my mouth without my hair getting in the way. Now my hair knows why I'm so addicted to coffee. It tastes so good, isn't it, hair?
I could only manage a bite or two while my client happily finished most of his food.
I cannot have him waiting for me to finish mine.
Then he got up to answer a phone call in a much quieter area. Or maybe he needed privacy, because I knew I needed some! I quickly held as much hair as I could in one hand and finished most of my food and coffee with the other. When he came back to the table, we were equal! Haha I'm so smart.
(Did he actually pretend with the call?)
The good hair day
I had two phones stolen by snatch thieves in the past couple of years, so I'm done making these thieves rich. My current phone is the most basic phone you can have, with no magic features or tones all thegood better phones have. Snatch thieves have finally left me alone.
So I was really in a super good mood on Friday. My shirt and suit looked good on me, and my hair, god, was flowing really nicely for the first time this week, I wonder why. I was all confident and business-y entering my client's office.
After the pleasantries, presentation and all, the client took a moment to have a look at the papers. The room was dead silent; he was in his serious thinking mode, frowning and all, while I anxiously waited with a smile that never left my face.
Suddenly, something buzzed, loudly, from the inside of my bag:
"It's time to get up. The time is -- 3.30. It's time to get up. The time is -- 3.30."
OMG, why am I getting up at 3.30??
My phone's alarm, volume set at maximum level.
I had a breakfast meeting on Thursday at an open-air cafe, with the table that my client picked had a fan blowing from behind my seat.
My hair was supposed to be this "messy-ponytail-flared-bangs" that day. I don't even know what it means actually, but it was not easy to do, I tell ya. Little did I know you can simply have a "just-messy-do" in three seconds. Just sit in a cafe with your back facing its giant a** boat fan! So my hair was really having fun, flying all over the place. And there I was, trying to appear composed while feeling like hiding under the table at the same time.
The fun didn't stop there. Our food arrived.
I wished I could open my mouth without my hair getting in the way. Now my hair knows why I'm so addicted to coffee. It tastes so good, isn't it, hair?
I could only manage a bite or two while my client happily finished most of his food.
I cannot have him waiting for me to finish mine.
Then he got up to answer a phone call in a much quieter area. Or maybe he needed privacy, because I knew I needed some! I quickly held as much hair as I could in one hand and finished most of my food and coffee with the other. When he came back to the table, we were equal! Haha I'm so smart.
(Did he actually pretend with the call?)
The good hair day
I had two phones stolen by snatch thieves in the past couple of years, so I'm done making these thieves rich. My current phone is the most basic phone you can have, with no magic features or tones all the
So I was really in a super good mood on Friday. My shirt and suit looked good on me, and my hair, god, was flowing really nicely for the first time this week, I wonder why. I was all confident and business-y entering my client's office.
After the pleasantries, presentation and all, the client took a moment to have a look at the papers. The room was dead silent; he was in his serious thinking mode, frowning and all, while I anxiously waited with a smile that never left my face.
Suddenly, something buzzed, loudly, from the inside of my bag:
"It's time to get up. The time is -- 3.30. It's time to get up. The time is -- 3.30."
OMG, why am I getting up at 3.30??
My phone's alarm, volume set at maximum level.
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