I've been trying to plan the perfect time to shave my head. I knew it had to happen. Seeing the clumps of hair on my pillow in the morning, come out in the shower, and pulling them out on our walks was really stressful. I made me sad. I was over of feeling sad about it. 

I borrowed Dana's fancy clippers on Monday. I talked to the kids and AP about doing it on Tuesday. I thought they may want to "help"? Of course, everyone offered to be there on Wednesday. I thought that is what I wanted, then I thought some more. I didn't - this was something I wanted to do, and do it alone.

 I closed the bathroom door on Thursday. I turned up "Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?". I shaved my head. 

It sounds dramatic, and I guess it was. I cried for so many reasons - but mainly because it felt so good. It was freeing. It was done. And, it was my choice. 

There is no perfect time, or perfect way to do it. 

And, I've always wanted a GI Gina moment.