I love putting my head in the hands of a woman who knows what I want. Finally today, after a year or so of bad haircuts, I got someone to cut it short, but not too short. What's so hard about "short, but not too short"? It's clear to me, but it's obviously too vague for most of the salon nomads. Since I never see the same one twice, it's hard to train them to do the right thing.

How do I want it cut? As short as you can get it without losing the wave. "Oh, so not so close that it spikes, right?" Exactly! And then she did cut it short, and when she asked me if I wanted a little more off, I said yes, as I always do. I will never complain about a haircut being too short. This one is a little shorter than I expected, but it always grows back. So far, anyway.

Trina. Her name is Trina. So I won't forget.

I don't know how long yellowjackets live, but there's been one flying around my house for the last two days. I think any insect dumb enough to fly in an open doorway is a drain on the gene pool, and I would have been doing the species a favor if I'd flushed this one. But no, I waited, and today it finally flew near the screen door. I opened the door and startled it back in the wrong direction.

Then I crouched out of the way and waited until it approached the door again. You have to open it at just the right moment or you'll spook the tiny-brained creature. Now it's free, and my conscience is clear because I didn't have to use the Mercy Rule on it.

It wasn't that I got any more sleep than usual. At least, I don't think I did. I know I woke up from a sound sleep at 3:30 this morning and found I'd been on the couch for I don't know how long. So I picked myself up and went to bed, and I'm pretty sure I slept for another four hours.

Naturally, I still had to drag myself out of bed this morning, because that's the way my body responds to the rising of the sun (even on a cloudy day). It wants to huddle under the blankets in defense against (or defiance of) the encroaching light. But I got up and had a fairly productive morning. I felt good. I was even doing a little desk dancing to my Lilo & Stitch CD.

And then, in the middle of the afternoon, I hit a wall. Suddenly my eyelids were drooping and those blankets seemed awfully inviting again. I sat down for a minute and got up half an hour later. Whatever happened in the meantime got me revved up for the rest of the day.

(By the way, sitting down is how I dance best.)

Something hit the kitchen window so hard this afternoon that I looked on the ground before I looked in the sky to see what it was. I didn't find anything in either place, so I have to believe it was just an incident, and not a tragedy.