I’ll be completely honest and admit it; I like to think about scissors. I find myself thinking about them. A lot. Every morning I ponder their strength, and again usually later in the morning. As the day progresses, I  usually find myself in wonder of their greatness at some point in the afternoon. And occasionally I’ll find myself cursing the fact that there are none handy. By evening, having spent too much time focusing on such a mindless object, I’ve typically decided to forsake my thoughts of them and move on… until dawn breaks and I start the cycle all over again.

 

It’s not that I love scissors. I understand they are just a sharp implement to be utilized in ways that only our imaginations limit. They can cut things, like paper! You’ve just been wowed by that fact, I bet! You know what else they can cut? Hair. Oh. My. Goodness. Every morning I want to take scissors to my hair. If you don’t know me, have ignored my pic on the sidebar of this website or have a sight impairment, my hair is long. Too long. And brushing it has become one of my least favorite tasks because it takes for-freaking-ever.

 

Yeah, yeah. I’m whining. I know. And I probably shouldn’t complain about an abundance of the darn stuff when so many are fighting to save what little they have… I can’t help it.

 

See, every morning I’m faced with the decision of picking up scissors or a hairbrush. It doesn’t help anything that I keep them stored side-by-side, either. Fortunately, I have no desire to have short hair at this point. Been there, done that, not the best style I’ve sported (though probably better than the mother-imposed-mullet I had as a child!). So the hairbrush is usually chosen. Usually. I will admit, I still stand by my statement that sometimes the only cure for a headache is scissors… but I digress.

 

As I brush through the knots every morning, I find myself contemplating the meaning of life, and the many, deep questions that are always left unanswered. Things like, “I wonder, if I had endless amounts of cash, could I pay someone to brush this mess for me?”  I mean, really though… Is that a job someone would do/have done for them? I’m not talking about a stylist, I like to do my own makeup, etc. I just don’t want to brush my hair, ok?!

 

This thought process has often led to me thinking of what other things I would pay for, should money be irrelevant… And should it not be really ridiculous to have a constant parade of people doing the menial tasks of life… like sorting socks.

 

Wash my windows, please?

Finish restoring my car?

Take all the ideas in my head, sort them out and file them appropriately for later usage?

Antagonize people?

 

Wait a second. That last one is actually a job I’d like to retain for myself…

 

If I let my imagination run with this idea, the list would be never-ending. And it would be absurd. I mean, think about what could be added to that list! Big jobs, remedial chores, I could have someone do all the grocery shopping. Even better, I could hire a person to finally tell the neighbor it’s disturbing when he mows his lawn in extremely small, cut-off jean shorts and nothing else (Arrested Development fans, think never-nude, but not in a funny way). Extremely disturbing. The guy is probably 70, and not to discriminate against age or body type, but at least put a shirt on… Please?

 

So, on that disturbing note I leave you with a question, and I want answers people!

 

How ’bout clicking on that handy comment button and telling me your top three jobs you’d outsource? And… Go!