Today's just dumb. I am busy and tired, and I have yet another headache. I get approximately four headaches a week these days. Maybe I should see a doctor? Eh. That would mean arduous 'calling' and 'making appointments,' which would then be followed by the inevitable 'drive over to the office' and then sitting there waiting for an 'appointment' and then... umm, just thinking about it makes me tired.

I dyed my hair yesterday afternoon. It has been so long since I did it that I can't even remember when it was. Possibly January? Anyway, I did it, and I like the way it came out, but while applying the dye to the back of my head yesterday I somehow managed to dig a fingernail into the back of my neck, HARD. And then the dye got into the wound. Which hurt, a lot. Today, the spot is still sore and I am keeping my hair down for awhile until I know the big dig-mark in my flesh is healed a bit more.

I left my cell phone home, but the day took a sweet little turn when Greg showed up at my office to bring it to me. It definitely cheered me up and made me forget about my maladies for a spell. I love the stealth-visit-to-the-office thing. I love seeing him like that. Even if it was only for 5 minutes.

So now, I am hoping that the headache will cease and I can enjoy a quick run to Goodwill, where I will drop off the bags of clothes I unsuccessfully tried to sell at Buffalo Exchange last night. (The girl with the spiky hair and aquamarine eyeshadow told me the following: "We aren't going to take anything this time. Thanks anyway for coming in." As I started to just take my stuff back and say thanks, she continued: "See, we really need CURRENT styles. You have some good labels here, but a lot of your clothes were really OLD or outdated. And there were issues with wear and tear on a lot of them... we can't really take shirts that have been overwashed." I could have done without the commentary, to be honest. Now I feel like my clothes are completely old and retarded looking, and that all my colored shirts are faded and overstretched with huge crusty pit stains or something. Thanks, trendy chick. You helped an OLD woman in her 30s feel a lot worse. Douchebitch.)

Anyway, that's my blog post for the day. I better go to Goodwill now. They won't say no to my shit at Goodwill. If they do, I will just run into traffic.