Socially arrested

I have a stomach ache, from doing crunches. This isn't a part of a New Year's resolution, but an ongoing self-improvement project. I have an appointment on Thursday to have my hair cut. When I called to make the appointment, it sounded like I reached someone at a rave. Music was booming in the background and the person was shouting into the phone. It's a nice salon, they use Aveda products and also give a free neck and scalp massage with every hair cut. It's moderately expensive but the massage makes it worth it.

Still, I have a terrible inferiority complex when going there, which is why I have only been twice in the past 2 years. On the other hand, I had the best haircut ever there. I've let my hair grow long but I need a little lift. My friend Sarah, whose fashion taste I trust implicitly, gave me a piece of advice when I lamented about my feelings about going there. She said, "You have every right to be in a nice salon, just like the next person. I know what you mean because I used to feel the same way, I still do sometimes, but I push through it. You're a paying customer."

It's funny that a relatively competent adult manages pulling off being confident while actually being on the brink of social collapse. That's me.