There was no “goooo mournee” like the previous hundreds of times I set off the alarm summoning her to the counter of my local Brite-Kleen. As I counted 5… 6… 7… to the end of my shirt pile, I looked up to see the spector of the follicle fiasco suppressing this poor woman’s usually friendly wall of sound.

Does a bad hair day affect you or do you simply give it a “whatever” and go on with your day?