my left ass cheek

hello humanoids!

If there's one degree I've been earning since my college career has started, it's the Degree of Getting Hopelessly Lost. I've almost got my Master's. I'm shooting for tenure at the "University of Where The Hell Am I?" next fall. 

  I've recently started working as a receptionist at a salon in order to rake in the dough. I want to work as a tutor in the Writing Center here on campus, but unfortunately I can't apply until second semester. So, because I knew I would drain my savings (especially with a Target in my reach) by the end of the semester without an income, I got this job.

Unfortunately, getting anywhere in the city for me is on par with getting a PhD in neuroscience (if one can even get a PhD in neuroscience. I dunno. The point is, it's really freakin' difficult). I have spent a total of four hours on three separate occasions driving around the city with zero idea where I'm going. At one point, after driving for an hour and a half around what I can only assume was the maze from the Triwizard Tournament, the GPS on my phone reported that I had reached my destination as I sat parked at the end of a dead-end road. A dead-end road that happened to be extra-dead-end due to construction. I think that's when the hyperventilating started.

Anyway, I've been slowly making progress with my aptitude for getting lost.
So today, I painstakingly made my way to the salon for an appointment. The appointment was much needed, as I was starting to look like Mad-Eye after Barty Crouch Jr. finally let him out of that enchanted trunk. (Oy, with the Harry Potter references!) Plus, I figured I should have the "customer experience" seeing as I was going to be working there.

It was the most ridiculous experience of my life. First of all, let me just say that my boss looks like Edna Mode from The Incredibles. I just feel like that is a very important detail. Secondly, I was there for approximately 500 years. (500 years in Bailey time = 3 hours in real time) My stylist offered me a hand massage, which I politely declined, seeing as I could feel myself calcify in the chair already. To this she responded, "Oh, well you're getting one anyway." She then proceeded to prod my fingers uncomfortably. "Mmm, doesn't that smell good?" she asked, shoving a bottle of lotion in my face.
"Oh, yes," I replied. Lies. It smelled like formaldehyde. You know, my stylist was really impressive though. She had this uncanny superpower where she had the ability to move in slow motion at ALL TIMES. Really, it was astounding. She also had the ability of making my head feel like I just got back from the Nickelodeon Kid's Choice Awards (...you know, cuz of the slime? Get it? Does anyone even know what I'm talking about in these blog posts?) At the end of the appointment, I was told that I would not be receiving the employee discount (for reasons unknown), so I had to sell my left ass cheek to pay for it. Guess I'll be walking lopsided from here on out.

I guess I can chock it all up to experience. This time in my life is about learning, right? And what I learned is that I am a Super Cuts girl.
And at least one good thing comes out of bad experiences. I get to blog about them. :)

Well, thank you for listening to my ranting, guys. Thanks for reading, and go out there and have awesome lives and stuff! Oh, and hold on to your ass cheeks.

Always,
Bailey Rose