Today my hair was washed and/or washed by someone else a total of three times. It’s one of those things you’re halfway through when you realize, oh, this has probably never happened to me before, not even at the beach with swimming twice a day. And I mean, you don’t exactly go out and celebrate or anything, but it’s still something, you know.

All for this: now, three weeks after watching Roman Holiday for the nth time, I can be in the same room with a pair of scissors without the overwhelming urge to compulsively follow suit. My hair is all sufficiently chopped off. Voilà!