As I type this on my phone, I find myself sitting in a hairdresser waiting area, listening to horrible country music (#doubletalk), surrounded by cliche hyper-religious wooden signs. I hate it all. Why am I here?

I’m here because my girlfriend likes how my hair looks when I get it cut here. I’m willing to endure all manner of unpleasantness fur that one little opinion. I’m sure I could get a good a haircut somewhere else, somewhere less excruciatingly quaint, but I’m here.

Mostly I’m reminding myself that people endure negative things, often many, for a single positive. The negative sensations make for compelling description and can really define a character.

That’s all.