OK everyone, get your mind out of the gutter ... let's not get personal here.
Today was a pretty good day ... to a point.
First off I decided to take a stress day. A vacation day from work for no particular reason other than to not go to work, to not stay home and to spend as much time with my beautiful wife as I possibly can. We decided to go to breakfast at a popular little local restaurant ... it was sooo yummy, and there was just way too much to eat ... but we tried. At this rate I'll never fit inot that dress I wore to the senior prom.
Oh wait ... I didn't go to the prom. And I didn't wear a dress in high school ... but I really wanted to. But I digress.
After breakfast we did a little shopping at Target. Nothing exciting ... in fact pretty boring, but it was time with my wife and that's all that matters.
We decided to get our hair trimmed. I am a little apprehensive about anyone touching my hair, but it has been over one year since I had a trim and it was looking a bit frizzy, so ... There was no wait at the Super Cuts we stopped at, two ladies working so we were both helped very quickly.
As the lady loosened my pony tail and my hair draped down my back she said, "Oh my, you have such beautiful hair."
"Thank you." I smiled and blushed a bit. Just for a moment I almost broke into girl talk mode ... but I don't talk much. I'm pretty much antisocial and don't engage in random conversation.
Next thing I know my wife and the two ladies are discussing how long and beautiful my hair was. It was a strange combination of feeling delighted and being entirely uncomfortable. I decided I only wanted about 2 inches cut off ... out came the scissors. I sat rigid as she sprayed my hair with water and clipped up a portion of my hair. The first couple of snips and cuts.
"Hey, your not getting anything cut off." My wife was making eye contact in the wall of mirrors. "You need to get 4 or more inches cut."
"I'll get 3 ... Only 3 inches. That's a fair compromise." I smiled.
Strange thing was, as we checked out the lady who cut my hair referred to me as "she" a couple times and told my wife the product we purchased "will be good for her hair." I'm thinking it may be a language thing, English was obviously not her primary language, but it still made me smile.
We went to pick up x-rays of my foot for the podiatrist appointment today. I popped into the records office and the man asked for my ID to ensure I was me. He stared at my driver's license (a picture taken 7 years ago when I had short hair and a mustache), he stared at me ... he repeated this process a few times ... "What's your birthday?"
I grinned and answered his security question ... I guess he thought I wasn't me after all.
The podiatrist appointment went well. I found out I don't have falling arches ... they fell. I also found out I have arthritis in my foot and bone spurs ... and I broke 2 bones in my foot a long time ago ... and there is an unusual shadow on the x-ray that the doctor cannot account for. Pretty good news considering I was expecting something out of the ordinary or complex.