I treasure my off days in the most selfish of ways. When I’m not traveling on a midnight train to DC, I enjoy doing, well nothing. Nothing special that is. I get a ton done–reply to 2 day old text messages, file 2 month old taxes, buy toothpaste, the usual. This week I have to fix my car headlight, put air in its tires, and call my landlord about detracting some money off my rent this month.
Why? I’ll have to brings you to my off days earlier this month. My mom and sister drove out to visit me and move Kevin out of his Uconn apartment. While it’s always nice to have visitors to the tourist hotbed of central Connecticut, I love my off days, and as you already know my family events never involve downtime. As far as I’m concerned, my mom and sister visiting for the weekend is like working for 2 straight weeks. So, although I hadn’t seen my mom since February, I was a little bitter before they even pulled up.
After a hug and a hello, my Mom looked at me, and said, “Yup Morgan you were right, she definitely needs a haircut.”
“What are you talking about?” I didn’t even have time to return the greeting.
“Morgan told me that your hair was looking a little unkempt. Why don’t we run and just get a haircut now? Do you have a place you go to?”
Of course not. Here I am, just a few hours into my off day and my mom is already ruining it. It’s not that I don’t want my hair cut, I just don’t want to be told what to do on my off day by my mother.
I acted like a pissed off 15 year old and whined and sassed the whole time at the salon. My mom was thrilled when they offer us tea, coffee, or Perrier.
“Ooooh you have Perrier?” She is already impressed with the place.
“Let’s be a little more fake and stereotypical while we’re at this dumb uppity salon, Mom.” The woman taking our order gives me a weird look that said aren’t you a little old to be acting like an emo teenager with your mom?
“Are you going to come back and monitor my haircut too? “ I taunted my mom.
Even Morgan told me to shut up. But I didn’t care. I was being taken advantage of. But some of this was my own doing.
One time I came back from college with jet black hair, which I had dyed in the sink of my dorm. I lied and said I went to a salon in DC, and that it was all their fault. From that day on, I no longer have my mother’s trust when it comes to grooming. Not that I ever had it to begin with.
And it wasn’t just a hair cut. After 4 hours, I had a haircut, a manicure, pedicure and a complimentary massage that came with it. While most people feel like celebrities after all these proceedures, I was miserable.