Tomorrow is haircut day. I like haircut day. I usually have the best hair before haircut day which always makes me nervous about getting a haircut. It's like my hair wants to play a trick on me that day by saying, "See how great I look? You don't need a haircut!"
Since I have a committed relationship with my hairdresser (as in, he is my main squeeze hairdresser), it's become a more pleasant experience. I trust him and his abilities. We can chat. He knows where my gray hairs hide. We can hug at the end of the cut and still be friends.
But the last time I saw him, he asked me about my move. I was a bit confused. Because I didn't move. Then, we both realized he had me confused with my sweet friend, Lisa, that also gets her hair cut there, and did indeed move. I accepted the confusion, because Lisa is beautiful and wonderful, so in his mind, we can be one and the same.