June 1st has come & gone. I've made it. I have survived 46 years, 6 weeks by 4 days.
I'm still worried but I don't think I'm as scared as I have been. David has been edge & asked me about how I was feeling. Actually, I feel fine. A little stressed, but other than that nothing is bothering me.
So what did I do to celebrate? I cut off my hair. Actually, I didn't cut it all off - just 6 inches. I still have enough hair to put into a decent pony tail. I spent the last 2 days trying to find a place to go. I have some clients who wanted to work with my hair, & I thought about it. Then I realized that being as picky as I am with my hair, I didn't want to worry about "What if I don't like what they do?" I ended up walking into a Hair Cuttery telling the stylist to cut my hair to just below my shoulders. I didn't even flinch!