The only way I can convince myself to pay $30 to get my hair cut is if I try and fail to do it myself first. Like, oh no, you can't go any where looking that choppy - you HAVE to see a professional to fix this mess. That's why I trimmed my fringe tonight, I guess. To subconsciously bully myself into an expensive chair, into the hands of someone who can make me beautifuler. And absolve me from the guilt of paying for "beautification" when I really can't afford it right now. If I knew how expensive these $10 shears would end up being in the long run, I would have... Well, I still would have bought them. Let's be honest.
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