When I was a young girl, my mother and I used to visit the same stylist-- Gloria was her name. Only it was Ohio so we called her a hairdresser, or probably more likely, a beautician-- two words that I really hate now that I'm older. No particular reason-- I just do. Much in the same way my friend Krista hates the word moist. Oh, and the word nipple.

Anyway. Gloria.

So Gloria used to tell me that when you get your hair cut that it sometimes "shocks" it a bit, and it may take a few days to coax it back into its old routine. Beautician or not, Gloria knew that keeping a thirteen-year-old completely updated on the status of her next few bad hair days is pretty much the equivalent to a matter of national security. She was preparing me for the fallout-- the worst-case-scenarios, if you will.

So what makes me think of Gloria and her sage hair shock advice right now is that our company moved into its new office space over the weekend and though everything has been incredibly smooth and things were pretty much business as usual by Monday afternoon, my system is still experiencing a bit of shock. I'm not sure if it's my new stylish office, the enormous spanning window, the privacy that I now have to listen to my music without headphones, or just a general malaise funneling through the air conditioning ducts, but I just CANNOT get back in the swing of things.

Hence, the first post in weeks. And my morning visit to the dentist. And other procrastinator-type things that I'm prone to taking on when I really can't get into the tasks at hand. Who knows, I may even finish the wedding thank-you notes. Seriously, it's THAT weird of a day.