Haircut time tomorrow. I've reached that point where I am almost crazed with my hair...yes, that point where I almost walked into my husband's barber and had her cut it. She might have done a great job. I will never know. I go tomorrow. I think I am getting a bob. I think I will like it. Yet, time has proven that every visit to the salon is hazard by many well-laid plans, ideas and thoughts. Plans go awry. Ideas might work on her hair, but not mine. We shall see.