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Ode to my Hairdresser
It's 5:03 on a Wednesday. The day has been long, though not particularly unkind. Just more of the same: waking up too late, rushing to get the baby changed and out the door, a busy work day packed with back-to-back meetings and fires to put out. It is not unfamiliar, but it drains me nonetheless. I have been waiting for this. All day, I have been waiting. At long last, I ease my aching bones into the swivel chair, and she dresses me like a queen in a draping black robe. She d

Megan Ward
Feb 282 min read
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