Hair today, gone tomorrow

So, life's been a bit of a struggle lately, and I figured what better way to drag myself out of a depressive slump than to write about it and make light of it? It'll force me to see the funny side of things; and failing that, it'll force me to get off my arse and do things worth writing about, in the very least. Finding pleasure or amusement in life's little happenings is just a matter of perspective, isn't it? Something I seem to have lost sight of lately...

 

Job one of the day was to make use of yet another day off (working part time is only fun if you have things worth doing on your days off...which I currently don't). So a trip down to the job centre to find something fulfilling (not before doing a bit of shoe shopping online - a great pair of shoes equals a great deal of happiness, no?). Only to be greeted by the most unhelpful 'assistant' possible, who handed me a leaflet and told me to go online, sorry, no help for career changes here, we're just a job centre. So with renewed determination, it was off to the Army Careers centre instead. Surely they could find a way to harness my enthusiasm, assiduousness  and lust for adventure?

 

A better story here, at least - although being female means my options are rather limited; not even feminine charm could help me here.

 

"You'll need to have your BMI checked out - we do have a minimum level," the burly woman informed me.

 

"I play rugby?" I offered, aware of my petite frame causing potential hindrance and amusement. I duly stepped on the scales, for once glad of the weekend's over-indulgence - in the name of dad's birthday - of roast goose dinner, chocolate pudding and birthday cake. Not often in life will a woman step on the scales and will them to present a greater mass than might normally be representative. I had my height assessed, and again, I paradoxically wished my 5'1" frame to compress at that moment to afford me the BMI I'd need to prove I was tough enough for the army. Thankfully, at a BMI of 18.49, I was just over the minimum of 18 (I made a mental note to continue eating cake).

 

"You could join the 655 squadron air corps, helicopter section." Sounded good enough to me; perhaps a visit next week would be in order.

 

Next, onto Tesco to top up on a few essentials. In the queue - "You're making me jealous," commented the balding gentleman in front.

 

"I'm sorry?"

 

"Hair," said he, nodding conspiratorially towards the two cans of pink deodorant on my section of the conveyor belt. "Making me jealous," he returned with a knowing smile. "Right..." Weirdo.

 

Now, they say there's no such thing as a free lunch, but I beg to differ. Particularly as my final task for the day was to enjoy a pasty and a hot beverage of my choice at one of a chain of pastry bakeries that I had been commissioned to 'mystery shop'. I activated sleuth mode and made my order - carefully worded - accordingly. Thankfully, the young man attending to me got full marks on his service and his upselling. This is possibly rather incongruous, but I'm always rooting for the person I'm sneaking on - I have a degree of sympathy for shoddiness in the workplace (within reason). I decided to ignore his illegally rolled-up sleeves and instead assess whether or not he might be flirt potential. Too young, I decided in the end. But easy enough on the eyes to enjoy with my cappuccino.