I have dreamt about the day when my hair would touch my waist. long, perfect. But I never seem to reach that point. The unattainable goal. The reason I am so unsuccessful, the down side to my obsessive nature, is that I also have an obsession with being impulsive. Not as intense of a desire, but a less easily controlled one. Every once and a while when I go for a hair cut, I turn into crazy, less responsible Emily, and i tell the hair dresser to chop six or more inches off, why not, I was bored and needed a change. Change? Go buy a new shirt, Emily. Add streaks, switch shampoos, but never ever avert from the plan.
More recently than my last hair cut of disastrous amounts, I have created an obstacle too large to get around in my long hair dreams. I have visioned for my long, perfect hair to be blonde and the toll it has taken on my hair is astronomical. Not that I wouldn't want brunette waist length, anti-amish styled hair, its just that its so much more magnificent when its blonde, In my mind of course, in my day dreams, and even some of my night ones, as I am yet to reach my goal and am sporting a light, average lengthed cut, that I am doomed to hold for the rest of eternity.