Recently, I wrote about the phenomenon of writers complaining about not being paid for their work by saying if you’re a professional writer, producing professional-grade work, you’ll get paid work. Because we do, actually, live in a world where vocational aptitude can and will be rewarded (most of the time). Most people will brains prefer the work of professionals, even when a service technically could be done by an amateur.
And then I cut my own hair. I know. I knooow. I am the person without a brain in that sentence. But my stylist just moved to the next city, and I didn’t want to go to someone new, but my ends
were super dead and sad, and then there was about a half a bottle of wine involved. So…voila! Self haircut.
It looked pretty not-so-good, but that’s okay for someone who works from home and knows she’ll eventually just drive (all the way) to Brighton to see her stylist at some point anyway. But then I got the opportunity to go to New York City to go to a conference. I’m pretty excited about the conference, which promises to be super interesting, fodder for some future stories, and I’ll get to meet some people I’ve been working with via the interwebz for more than a year now. And they can finally meet me, the dumdum Midwesterner with the home haircut and brown-not-blonde hair.
Sigh. So, less than a week after I cut my own hair, I went to see my stylist. A professional, who I value for her talent and experience. In Brighton. I had to grovel and apologize and feel sheepish, but my hair looks super. Because that’s what professional do; they do whatever they do better than you can.
It’s always good to be reminded, especially when one is in the business of espousing things to the world, that we live in a world of little hypocrisies, and we are all subject to creating them. I survive – literally, I feed myself – because I believe in a system that rewards professionals for doing great work. Sometimes, when there is enough wine and procrastination involved, however, I forget to uphold the system myself. Shame on me. But also, yay for me! For admitting it, getting over it, and having cute hair again.
Basically, what I’m saying is that it’s Election Day, and you should go vote. (Did I make it all the way there with this post? Let’s just say I did.)