Chapter II: A New Beginning

Today was the first day of my new job. I have my own desk, a cubicle, a spider plant, phone, and the people across the way from me have a huge window view. It's almost like I have a window. I also have one of those stylish card things for around my neck that I have to wave to get into every room in the building. It's a whole new office experience for me.

Like most of my first days before this one, I spent a significant portion of it sitting on the floor, filing stuff. I need to stop wearing dresses on my first day. Am I the only person that assume a sitting on the floor position to do filing? It just seems logical. It's also a great way to get to know new co-workers as they crawl around me to get to where they're going.

I'm pretty sure there's an unwritten office law that all filing is to be put off for several years until Anna's first day. Fact.

Not only did today bring about a significant change in my employment situation (aka bye bye, Douglas) but I also got my hair cut this weekend.

I was getting tired of my long, gorgeous locks turning into gigantor tangles when I wore scarves so I bit the bullet and decided to go about 4" shorter to just below my shoulders. I wanted layers and I wanted them layery.

Terrible, terrible self bathroom before shot.

Totally below my shoulders.

So my haircut ended up being a little bit more dramatic than intended. The lady who did my hair is really nice and I really like her, but I'm not sure I'll go back. For obvious reasons. The thing is, she was really excited for me to go shorter and I think that by telling her I trusted her judgement I may have unintentionally given her a little too much leeway. I also have no intention of rocking the straight across bangs this time. It makes me feel like a spy. I also identify with my "swoosh."

Oh well. Even though I wasn't emotionally ready to go this short, and lament often and loudly, it's not like I haven't been here before. This is the fourth time in my life I've gone this drastically short. I am indeed counting the time I was six. When we got married two and a half years ago I had decently short hair.

Have a picture.

I'm just staring into your soul, don't stress.

Also, smack dab in the middle of "the awkward years" I cut my hair all sorts of short. Sadly I don't have a lot of pictures to share with you. They're probably buried in a stack of CDs somewhere. I also don't have any photos of super cute six year old me. Karl says that I was a cute little kid, until grade two. Then what was once two eyebrows became one. It wasn't a very happy union.

This, however, was a very happy mid-air union for 17 year old Anna.

When I was 16 I took short hair one step too far. I was inspired by Jon Foreman, okay?

Nope, that's not a cute boy, folks. It's ME on the tail end of the awkward years. Yep, tail end.

So in an effort to find photos of myself with short hair from way back when I realized two things: 1. When in grade 12, as I  tried to grow out my terribly short hair I had just below the shoulder hair and it looked dang good; 2. I really did enjoy having short hair. It was cute, it was fun, it was so, so high maintenance. So I guess I'll survive. But I'm still going to mourn the loss of my length.

Okay, that's been enough reminiscing for me for one day. I feel like I've come a long, long way.

AMIRIGHT?