Ha ha ha I'm a fucking idiot. Pretty sure I dislocated a rib.
Work is finally starting to calm down in the wake of the Brexit vote. One of the managers brought up the prospect of what the markets are going to do if Trump gets elected in the US. I told them they better start hiring extra staff now, because holy shit.
I got my first grey hair when I was still in my teens. Since that time I've been shaving it, teasing it, mohawking it, and spiking it, and always in some colour that caused small children to point and pollinators to follow me down the street. The last time I shaved my head was about a year ago and I've been just letting it grow out ever since.
When it was at the peach-fuzz stage I was actually worried that it was going thin on me, but it turned out that the hair on my crown is now so white as to be transparent - I was actually just seeing my scalp through my hair. After a year of growth it's obvious I had nothing to be concerned about; it's a rediculous unruly mop. It's also gone curly since it went grey - something that I have never had before and so I have no idea how to take care of it. So right now I'm just letting it do whatever it wants, which mostly appears to be frizz and cowlicks. I keep thinking gravity has got to kick in at some point but as is typical of my nemesis, it's being entirely uncooperative.
Tomorrow is Canada Day, which I will no doubt spend cleaning. Saturday is birthday party BBQ. Sunday is post-party clean-up and/or hangover day. So Monday is likely the first day I will be able to get my teeth properly into NaNoWriMo.
I've been trying to pursuade people to sign up on the site just because I figure it will be easier to post one notice of when & where I'm going to be instead of texting everybody - except the site is so poorly designed as to be a pain in the ass to navigate. I may actually be forced to use FaceBook. Bah.
Or maybe I'll set up a mailing list. Man, talk about old-school.